


It Happened In The Multiverse

by TwiceBakedPotato



Series: It Happened in the Multiverse [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time (sort of), Fluff and Angst, Gender Issues, Gratuitous Knitting, Hurt/Comfort, I Was Drunk When I Got This Idea, Intersex Wade Wilson, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Nightmares, Regeneration is Tricky Business, Spideypool - Freeform, Temporary Amnesia, Wade's Bad Coping Skills, Wanda is a good sister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 84,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2595326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiceBakedPotato/pseuds/TwiceBakedPotato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something strange happened to Wade. Well, something strange always happens to Wade. But this type of strange involves an alien ray, Wanda (aka Lady Deadpool), and some slight errors with his regeneration in another universe. Luckily, the Merc with the Mouth has an Ultimate Amazing boyfriend and a newly adopted sister/doppelganger to help him through. </p><p>Or Deadpool is atomized, and comes back home with lady parts.</p><p>(COMPLETE!!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Siblingpool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade comes back from a mission to the multiverse.

Waking up in the Avengers Tower was an unusual experience for Wade Wilson, but then again, this was Earth-722, and things were a little different. He cracked open an eye, his head instantly throbbing under the bright hospital lights. 

“Well, lookie there,” a raspy lady’s voice said. Suddenly Wanda was hovering over him. “Finally decided to come back from the dead, eh?”

Wade winced as he reached for her, adjusting her position so that Wanda’s head blocked out the overhead light. He opened his eyes a little wider. “How long did it take you?”

“Over night,” she answered proudly, a smirk on her scarred lips. “But then again, I was only disintegrated from the waist down, unlike you my masculine doppelganger.”

Atomized is the proper term. Wade had a vague memory of being turned into a mist. He always thought it was kind of weird how his consciousness hung around for a second or two before sauntering away into Death’s embrace. Hell, even Death was different in this niche of the Multiverse. Not as nice, really. Probably because Wanda had pissed her off once or twice. It was kind of disappointing to die and be given the cold shoulder. 

Wade groaned, pushing himself up to a sitting position. He carefully rolled his head on his shoulders, feeling the new muscles stretch and scars pull. They had dressed him in a hospital gown with little Avengers logos printed all over it, interspersed with Iron Man heads and General America shields (Cap got a promotion in this universe). 

“When can I leave?” Wade asked, his voice a little more hoarse than usual. 

Wanda shrugged. “Whenever you’re up to it.”

He could detect a note of sadness in her voice. Wade asked, “You okay, my dear female counterpart?”

She shrugged again. “I’m fine.”

Wade knew himself enough to know that Wanda was not, in fact, fine. Though her voice was a little higher in pitch and her face a little more delicately crafted, Wade knew his lying, forlorn expressions and tones. 

“Something I need to know about?” he asked. 

“It’s, uh… It’s nothing,” Wanda said, absently picking a piece of fuzz off the sleeve of her red and black uniform. She sighed, and said, “It’s just… I don’t know… I’m going to kind of miss having you here. It’s been fun the last couple weeks.”

Wade smiled. “Yeah. It has. You actually get my jokes.”

“Totally,” she said, beaming a smile that showed through the mask. Then Wanda’s brow furrowed as the smile fell away. “And… you kinda help me forget stuff, too. It hasn’t been good for me lately.”

“I know,” Wade said softly. In this universe, Nathan Summers had only died a few months ago. Unlike in his universe, Wanda and Nate stayed on the same side through the whole Civil War. Stayed married, even. He sighed. “It gets easier, you know. Losing him.”

Wanda huffed a laugh as a spot of moisture darkened under the eyes of her mask. She cleared her throat, and said, “If you say so. How long did it take for you to move on?”

“A long time,” Wade said. He thought about Peter, who was probably ready to strangle him for being gone so long, and added, “But there’s good things that will come your way, too.”

“If you say so,” she repeated. Then she sniffled, and stood up from the bedside, saying, “I’m gonna go get your suit so you can cover the family jewels.”

After she was gone, Wade stood and stretched his whole body. A new body, more or less. Being atomized made everything feel strange. It had only happened to him once before. This time, it was a ray from some alien bastard that he’d chased through three universes before teaming up with Wanda and the 722 Avengers. 

It really had been a blast hanging out with one of the Deadpools. Especially Wanda. It made him happy to know that at least one of the Wanda’s survived the Deadpool Apocalypse, which gave him hope there was still a Kidpool out there somewhere. He could care less about Headpool, though Dogpool was alright. Loyal, kind of stupid. Just like the rest of them. 

Really, if it wasn’t for Peter, Wade would have thought about staying where he was. The Avengers loved him, even douchy Tony Stark was not so douche-tastic. It was strange to feel so welcome, and Wade wanted that feeling to last. Except, stupid him, he was in love with a doe-eyed Bambi, and all he wanted was to bounce on the web-head the moment he got back to 616. 

Wanda wasn’t the one who came back with his uniform; it was Natasha Barton. It was so cute seeing Black Widow and Hawkeye as an adorable married couple, though Wade made the mistake of awww-ing at them, which resulted in a broken rib administered by Nat. Happened so fast, he never even saw her leg move before he felt the snap. Kind of like seeing lightning long before hearing the thunder. 

He accepted the pile of clothes, and asked, “Wanda okay?”

“She put a hole through the common room wall,” Natasha said cooly, backing out the door. “I’d say she’s been better.”

Wade nodded, and once the door was closed, he changed into his uniform. A brand new uniform, at that. It was made of a different kind of reinforced material, like the ultra durable, ultra flexible lovechild of Spandex and Kevlar. It felt good. Soft inside, like silk against his scarred, raw skin. He imagined it was a fabric specially made for Wanda, and they were kind enough to tailor it to him. 

Once dressed, Wade headed down the hallway to the elevators, noting the hole in the wall next to a pair of potted plants. He looked up, and said, “Hey JARVIS, where’s Wanda?”

The only answer was silence, and Wade remembered, “I mean, ALFRED. Don’t be a dick.”

“Ms. Summers is currently in Doctor Richard’s laboratory,” the AI answered.

“Thanks,” Wade said as he stepped into the elevator. The door was almost closed before a hand pushed the doors back open, and Clint stepped in. 

He was all smiles as he said, “Leaving?”

Wade nodded. The elevator started to descend, and he said, “I’m actually going to miss you, Hawkeye. You are so...not like I’m used to.”

“Gonna miss you too, Dudepool,” Clint said with a half smile. “It’s been cool seeing another version of Wanda. You’re both such total badasses, it’s amazing. Nat won’t admit it, but she’s gonna miss you too.”

“It’s hard to believe,” Wade said with a half-hearted laugh. He had to remind himself to think of Peter, otherwise he was going to tell Reed Richards to forget the portal. 

That was another unusual thing about this universe. The Fantastic Four and the Avengers were a single unit, operating out of Avengers Tower. Actually, when Wade mentioned something about the semi-sorta rivalry between Tony and Reed, both looked at him like he’d grown a second head. There was no Baxter Building. Also, there was no Dr. Doom, at least not as Wade knew him. Victor von Doom was also on the Avengers team, and was a helluva nice guy, considering Wade tried to shoot him on sight. 

The doors opened to Reed’s laboratory, where Wanda was waiting by the portal’s steps. She had removed her mask, revealing that the ponytail was just an accessory; Wanda was just as bald as Wade. 

“Just in time,” Reed said as Wade and Clint approached. “I have you dialed in. All you have to do is step through.”

Wade stared at the portal, at the swirling colors and sighed. “Guess I better be on my way. Things to see, people to do and all.”

Wanda ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. For a moment, Wade was a little surprised, before he finally hugged her tight, and said, “I’m really going to miss you, Sisterpool.”

“Gonna m-miss you t-too,” she sobbed into his shoulder. 

Wade found he was having trouble holding back the tears too. He remembered all too well just how messed up he was after Nate went and dropped off the face of the planet. There was no way he would have made it through without the help of Bob and Weasel, Hayden and all the rest of them at Agency X.

Then Wade got an idea. It was probably a terrible idea, but he still said, “You could always come home with me for a bit. Take a break, maybe?”

Wanda straightened, looking him in the eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Hell yeah, I’m serious,” Wade said, a smile blooming on his face. “Just for a little bit. You can meet Peter. We can chill on the couch and play Call of Duty. I’ll make you tacos. And when you get sick of me, I’ll sweet talk my Richards into sending you back.”

She grinned, and Wade knew what her answer was going to be. 

Wanda looked at Clint, and said, “Do you think that the General will be fine with me taking a vacation with my pan-dimensional brother?”

“No sweat, sweetheart,” Clint said as he gave her a hug. “Have fun. And if you see me, tell me to be nicer to Wade.”

“I will,” Wanda said with a grin before running to the elevator. Ten minutes later, she was back at the portal with a giant duffel bag over her shoulder stuffed with guns and a couple changes of clothes. Deadpools always have their priorities in order. 

***

Wade and Peter’s little apartment in Queens had been cleaned within an inch of its life during Deadpool’s extended absence. Three weeks. Three very long, agonizing, boring weeks without surprise tacos at midnight, shower handjobs, or Halo tournaments. When Wade left on his mission to the Multiverse, Peter thought it would be nice to have some time alone. Enjoy the quiet. But after the first few days, Peter realized that half of what he loved about Wade Wilson was the abundance of distraction. Never a dull moment with the Merc with the Mouth. 

Now, it was nearing midnight, and Peter was eating double chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream straight from the container, and generally feeling like the saddest sack in the history of superheroes. He’d been out on patrol, but kept missing his marks, and ended up face-planting into the side of the Empire State Building. After that, he decided it was time to hang up the tights and take a night off. 

He was just about finished with the ice cream when his cell phone vibrated. He snagged it off the coffee table and felt warmth flood him upon seeing Wade’s picture and a message that said, “Comin’ home, baby boy.”

Five minutes later, Wade was at the bedroom window. Peter practically threw him onto the bed, unbuckling the collar around his neck and pulling up his mask, kissing him with the vigor of a starving man finding a juicy steak. Wade rolled them over until he was on top, nipping and sucking at Peter’s mouth and neck before drawing back to allow his eyes to roam over the younger man’s flushed cheeks and panting lips. 

“Goddamn, you’re nice to come home to,” Wade whispered, again diving in to taste Peter’s cookie-dough flavored mouth. 

Peter wrapped his legs around Wade’s waist, fingers fumbling with the unfamiliar clasps and zippers that closed the front of his uniform. He was rock hard, and desperate to feel skin. He had missed Wade more than he would ever say, and needed to touch and taste every inch of him. 

Then there was a clearing of a throat, and Peter was suddenly on the ceiling, looking down with wide eyes at...at…

“Damn, bro. You were right. He’s fuckin’ jumpy,” the person said. The bedroom was dimly lit, but Peter could see that it was a female, and she was wearing a Deadpool uniform. Not to mention her face was covered in the same scars and lesions as Wade.

Wade laughed, and said, “Yeah. He is.” Wade slung his arm around the Lady Deadpool, and said, “Peter, this is Wanda. Wanda, this is my little Petey-pie.”

“Wade?” Peter managed to squeak out, before he dropped down from the ceiling. “Um… Who… What… Where…”

“I already answered the Who. Keep up, Peter.” Wade motioned him to come closer, and said, “This is Wanda, she’s me from another dimension. My semi-sorta sister. She’s from Earth-722.”

Peter was very confused, and said, “Wade… Can I… We need to talk.” He grabbed Wade by the upper arm, and flickered a smile at Wanda. “Just… Um… We’ll be back?”

Wanda grinned, the same grin Peter had seen on Wade’s face when he felt a little awkward. 

Peter dragged Wade into the bathroom, and asked in a hushed, harsh whisper, “Why did you bring home another Deadpool? I’m not… We’re not doing some weird kinky Pool-cest. I’m not on board with that.”

Wade frowned. “Peter, I am shocked you would think such a vile thing. And no, I did not bring her here for sexual gratification. In fact, I brought her here to cheer her up. See, she just lost the love of her life, and…”

“Huh?” Peter said, cutting him off. “Love of her… Who? Other me?”

“Nathan,” Wade said softly. “She hasn’t met Peter Parker yet. No guarantee that she will. Just… She was really sad, and I asked her to come here for a little bit to take a break from things. If you don’t want her here, that’s cool. I’ll understand.”

“It’s not that… It’s just…” Peter cleared his throat, and said, “A little head’s up would have been nice. I feel like… Wow, I mean first impressions.”

“Her first impression is that you love me, Peter,” Wade said with more sincerity than Peter thought he was capable of showing. 

Peter smiled. “I’ve really missed you, you know that?”

“Missed you too, baby boy,” Wade said in a low whisper, causing goosebumps to spread over Peter’s skin. He kissed the soft, sensitive skin behind Peter’s ear, and added, “I just brought her here to meet you tonight. She’s gonna stay at Bob’s place. Got it all arranged.”

“She doesn’t have to stay with Bob,” Peter said with a sigh. “I mean, she’s...family.”

From the other side of the door, Wanda’s rough voice said, “Just for tonight, Petey-pie. Wanna make sure my bro gets his sex on.”

Peter’s face turned a darker shade of red, and he cleared his throat before saying, “Thank you, Wanda. Thanks. You’re a friend.”

“Totes,” she said. Then added, “But no, really. Multidimensional travel is a bitch. I really need to drop a deuce. So if you could have your heart to heart in the kitchen, that would be awesome.”

Peter and Wade stepped out of the bathroom, and Wanda bounced inside and shut the door. He looked up at Wade and said, “It is creepy how much you two are alike.”

Wade shrugged. “She’s me with boobs.”


	2. Something is Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda goes to Bob’s so Peter and Wade can have some alone time, and Peter makes a startling discovery.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, Wade, Peter, and Wanda headed to Bob’s apartment. Peter was amused at the fact that Wade and Wanda were dressed identically, even in their street clothes. Red and black hoodie, blue jeans, and black combat boots, with a plethora of guns hidden on their person. It was actually kind of heartwarming, in a weird way. They really were like a pair of twins, complete with their own silent communications. 

Bob, Agent of Hydra and long time friend of Deadpool, lived only a few blocks away, and the three of them walked arm in arm, Wade and Wanda pulling Peter along in a Wizard of Oz style skip that drew the attention of everyone they passed. Wade was always kind of strange and spontaneous, but it was clear that Wanda had an interesting effect on the merc. Wade was light hearted in a way he only ever was behind closed doors, and Peter knew it was because for once, Wade had found one of his own kind. Literally. 

Wanda was much more confident and comfortable in her skin, and Peter figured out why as soon as she started talking about being part of the Avengers in her world. Wanda was accepted, and Peter only hoped that she would be welcomed here. He could tell by the smile on Wade’s face that he had enjoyed being in her world, and Peter almost felt selfish for being the reason that Wade came back. 

True, lately the Avengers were a bit more accepting of Deadpool. There were several occasions that they had called on him to deal with difficult and dangerous situations, but there was still an air of annoyance at his presence. Tony Stark had referred to him as perfect cannon fodder, and Peter gave the billionaire a black eye for the comment. 

There were many times that Peter felt guilty for all the occasions he had shoved Wade away, especially after finally getting to know him better. It was after Cable’s death that Peter started to understand him better, started to see him as someone with actual emotions instead of just the lunatic killer. And despite everything, Wade was always right there to help any time Peter needed him, even when Peter didn’t know how bad he needed the merc. He hoped that he really was worth coming back.

Outside Bob’s apartment building, Wade pushed the button with a HYDRA emblem beside the number. A moment later the buzzer sounded, and they walked inside. Bob was a milquetoast invertebrate excuse of a human, and Peter always felt a little sorry for him. Mainly because of the way Wade ordered the poor guy around. But, at the same time, Bob didn’t seem to care. Perhaps he was just a natural born minion. 

Wade knocked once, and Bob opened the door, looking from Wade to Wanda with a look of wide-eyed joy. He ushered everyone into his apartment, apologizing for the mess that was not readily apparent. Wanda grinned at the minion, and said, “You’re freaking adorable. Why don’t I have one of you?”

“You ever gatecrash a HYDRA base?” Wade asked. 

She shook her head. “No. Not that I remember.”

“That’s why, sis,” Wade said with a grin. He looped his arm around Bob’s shoulders, and said, “Bob is a Deadpool’s best friend. Loyal and fluffy. Just look at his hair.”

Wanda fluffed Bob’s hair, and nodded. “He is a perfect lap dog.”

Bob nuzzled into Wanda’s hand, and Peter suddenly felt awkward. He tugged Wade’s sleeve, and Wade stepped over beside Peter, putting a hand at the small of the younger man’s back. 

“You think you two are going to be okay for the night?” Peter asked, watching Wanda scratch behind Bob’s ear. The minion’s leg was starting to shake. 

Wanda nodded. “I think we’ll get along just fine. You two have a wonderful night, okay?”

“Oh, we will, Sisterpool,” Wade said, giving Peter’s ass an appreciative grope. 

“We’ll get together for breakfast tomorrow,” Peter said, his face turning a little pink. “We can do a tour of our New York City.”

“Sounds fab-u-lous!” Wanda sing-songed. Then she turned to Bob, and said, “Wanna sit on the couch and watch TV with Mama Poolie?”

Bob nodded enthusiastically, and Wade and Peter left the apartment. 

As they walked down the hall, Peter linked hands with Wade, and said, “That was kind of weird. And by kind of weird, I mean… What the hell did you do to Bob?”

“Nothing,” Wade said with a shrug. “I think he’s just made that way. He’s a natural born yes-man. It’s half the reason I’ve kept him around. That and nobody, and I mean nobody knows how to run away quite like him.”

Peter laughed. “I almost feel bad, though. You brought Wanda here, and now we’re just ditching her with Bob.”

“Wanda is a good bro,” Wade said as he smooched Peter’s temple and tugged him into the elevator. He maneuvered Peter into the corner, kissing him slow and deep, breaking away only because they were both smiling too much to continue. Then the doors were open, and two girls holding identical bichons were glaring at them. 

By the time they made it back to the apartment, they had both lost patience with clothing and doors and anything that was between them and breaking three weeks of sexual frustration. Peter ended up cursing at the lock on the door, and finally shouting, “Fuck it, it stays unlocked,” before tackling Wade to the couch. 

Peter straddled the merc, slipping his hands under the hoodie and sweeping it off over Wade’s head. He ran his hands over the rough, firm planes of the mer’s chest, and noticed that Wade was still wearing his collar. A different collar than normal, and remembered the change in his wardrobe. Peter asked, “Where’d the new uniform come from?”

“Would you believe Tony Stark?” Wade said with a grin. 

“I’m surprised you wanted to come back,” Peter said as he trailed his fingertips over the leather of the collar.. 

Wade covered Peter’s hands with his own, and said, “Couldn’t stay. Not without you, baby boy.”

Peter leaned down to kiss him, whispering, “I’ve missed you so damn much.”

Wade gripped Peter’s firm ass, his hips snapping up against the younger man. They were both hard and straining against their clothing, and both at the end of their patience. Wade practically ripped the button off Peter’s jeans, Peter letting out a ragged moan as the merc’s rough hand gripped his leaking cock. 

“I’m not gonna last,” Peter gasped, whimpering when Wade moved his wrist just right.

“Want me to stop?” Wade asked

Peter gripped Wade’s forearm, and breathed, “Want you.”

A shiver swept through Wade’s body as he said, “What do you want me to do, sweetums?”

“I want you on your hands and knees,” Peter said as he got up on shaking legs, quickly removing his jeans and boxers.

Peter watched with hungry eyes as Wade made a show of removing his clothes, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, then slowly sliding them down his muscular ass and thighs. Wade was somewhat self-conscious when they first started sleeping together, but Peter had finally convinced him of just how sexy he really was. The man had muscles that had muscles. His legs were like a pair of tree trunks, thick and powerful. There was nothing soft about the merc. He was rough with a history of violence, and every now and then, he let Peter take control of him. Those times were always memorable. 

Wade tossed his clothes over his shoulder, and Peter’s mouth watered as the merc did as instructed, getting on his hands and knees. Peter joined him immediately, gripping the merc’s ass, licking and nipping at the firm muscle. His hands explored the texture of the scars, noticing all the different patterns and realizing that Wade must have undergone a serious regeneration while he was gone. All Peter wanted to do was make Wade feel good, in every way he could possibly feel good. 

Then he spread Wade’s ass cheeks, and saw he was already slick. Peter nearly lost it imagining Wade walking around the entire way to Bob’s and back. 

“Fuck,” he whispered almost reverently. “I fucking love when you do this.”

Wade shivered, and said, “Do what, baby boy?”

His fingers trailed around Wade’s puckered entrance, gliding easily. “Prep yourself. You must have been ready to burst.”

Wade cast a look over his shoulder of pure confusion. “Huh?”

Peter’s fingers followed the slick trail, moving towards Wade’s balls. “You prepped yourself before we left, right?” Just as the words left his mouth, Peter’s finger slipped into something warm, wet, and not at all expected. 

Wade gasped, his back arching before, he rolled over and asked, “What the fuck was that!”

Peter reached for the lamp, fumbling a few times with the switch before the living room was flooded with light. 

There was a moment when Peter wasn’t really sure what he was looking at, but there was something very different about what was between Wade’s legs. He must have stared for a minute too long, because Wade asked, “What the hell are you staring at?”

“I… Um... “ He got up, sprinting to the bathroom. He came back with a hand mirror, and thrust it into Wade’s hands as he said, “Is there something you need to tell me?”

Wade frowned at Peter, then angled the mirror so he could see what was causing the confusion. He got the same confused look on his face that Peter was wearing as he reached between his legs, hands shaking as his testicles parted in a way that was not customary, revealing a muscled opening that was leaking a clear, slick fluid. 

Experimentally, Wade touched the outer opening, an alien sensation that he couldn’t quite compare with anything he recognized. Though Wade had never performed this kind of self-examination, he was certain that he never had something like this before. 

Wade cleared his throat, and said in a moderately calm voice, “Okay. This is weird.”

***

A few minutes later, Wade and Peter were sitting on the couch side by side, drinking hot cocoa, both looking fairly frazzled. Not much had been said, and the strangeness of the situation had caught them both so off guard that the mood was effectively destroyed. Wade was wrapped in a blanket and Peter was wearing Wade’s hoodie and a clean pair of boxers.

“This is…so...I can’t…” Wade said, frowning down at his hot cocoa. “Did you get peppermint cocoa?”

Peter nodded. “Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing.” Wade took another drink, letting the warmth settle in his stomach before he sighed, and said, “So I guess I have a vagina now.”

“Yeah…” Peter glanced over at Wade, who was still staring into his cup. “What happened? How…”

“I have no idea,” Wade said, his voice a little dazed. 

Peter set his mug aside and turned so he was facing Wade. “I know you regenerated. I can tell by the scars. So… What happened while you were gone?”

Wade sighed. “I got atomized by an alien ray. Completely dissolved into nothing.” 

Peter’s eyes went wide, and he gasped, “What!”

“Wanda was with me. She was only partially dissolved,” Wade continued. He shrugged and was quiet a moment, before saying, “Maybe something weird happened when they scooped me up. Got some of her bits in with mine or something.” 

He laughed softly, but Peter could tell Wade was on the verge of freaking out. His whole life, Wade had felt like a freak. First it was his fucked up childhood, followed by the cancer, then the scars, and finally the madness that completely took his mind. He learned to cope with all of it, finding some kind of equilibrium. 

In this moment, Wade didn’t know what to think or how to feel. He’d known something felt...different. But he couldn’t identify it. It was embarrassing, too. Finding out that somehow wires got crossed, and he was even more of a freak than normal. He felt sick seeing the look on Peter’s face when the lights came on, a look that never meant anything good. 

 

Wade finally set aside his cup, and pulled the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders. “This is… I’ll understand, you know.”

“Understand what?” Peter asked. Wade looked at him, and Peter shook his head. “Do you honestly think I would ditch you because you came back different? Fuck, Wade. Do you really think I’m that shallow?”

The merc’s voice was barely audible, ashamed, as he whispered, “No.”

Peter wrapped his arms around Wade’s broad shoulders, and nuzzled against his neck. “You’re still Wade Wilson. And nothing, not even something as strange as this, can change who you are and that I love you. Nothing has changed. So get that shit out of your head.”

Wade rested his head against Peter’s trying to absorb the words. Even after all these months of living together, he found it hard to believe that anyone could love him as much as Peter. 

“Come on,” Peter said as he stood, tugging Wade along with him. Wade took Peter’s hand, and followed him to the bedroom, where the younger man pulled back the covers and took off his clothes before sliding between the sheets. Peter motioned for Wade to join him, feeling like he was coaxing a frightened animal out of hiding. 

Wade dropped the blanket and got in bed beside him, huddling against Peter. They were quiet for a few minutes, just holding each other in the dark. Wade was still somewhat rigid, and took a while for his body to finally relax. 

“Sorry for killing the mood,” Wade said softly. 

Peter kissed the top of his bald head, and said, “You didn’t kill anything.” He huffed a laugh, and said, “Actually, I’m just imagining all the new avenues this opens for us.”

Wade looked at him, and said, “Why Peter Parker. All this time, I thought you were a little vanilla sundae. Who knew?”

Peter punched his arm. “Vanilla, huh?”

“With a cherry on top,” Wade said, kissing Peter’s chin. Then Wade’s eyes went wide, and he gasped, “Oh my god! Do you know what this means?”

“What?” Peter asked, laughing. 

“It means I have my V-card back!” Wade practically shouted.

Peter grabbed Wade by the hip. “I can do something about that.”

Wade gasped. “You dirty cad. I’m a classy lady. Not gonna give into your advances so easily. I insist on romance, Mr. Parker.”

Peter grinned. “I’m pretty sure that can be arranged.”

Wade nuzzled back into Peter's side, and after a few moments said, "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you, baby boy. But I hope I keep doing it."


	3. Chocolate In My Peanut Butter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade is still insecure, and Wanda makes a revelation.

The following morning, Wade woke with Peter wrapped around him like he actually had eight legs. The younger man was snoring softly against the back of his neck, his morning wood jammed against Wade’s butt. On a normal morning, Wade would roll them both over and wake Peter with a mouth on his dick, but Wade couldn’t muster up the desire. Despite everything seeming okay last night, he was awake with fresh anxieties.

Wade carefully extracted himself from the bed and walked to the bathroom. He went through his usual morning ritual of taking a piss and brushing his teeth, doing his best not to think too hard about what they had discovered the night before. But the damned mirror was still sitting on the counter. After a little hesitation, he grabbed the mirror and propped one foot on top of the toilet lid to again take a look at his new parts.

Now that he was alone, he took the time to really look, and not just look, but feel. Wade noticed there were several changes, not just the opening. His testicles seemed smaller, and were separated almost like over-plump labia that surrounded the vaginal opening. There was also a small, fleshy protrusion situated behind his penis that was very sensitive to his touch. One brush of his fingertip made his whole body spasm. Clit, he decided. Definitely a clit.

That thought was a little amusing. In his life, Wade had his fair share of women in his bed. He knew the magic of that little nub, and knew the reactions proper stimulation could bring. Though many of his bed-mates would swear in court that they never had sex with the merc, none of them ever left anything less than satisfied. Wade was a giver.

After a few minutes, Wade put the mirror in the drawer and got into the shower. It was so strange, so alien for him. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t a big deal, but he didn’t believe that at all. It felt like a big deal. His body had changed. It was not the first time that something had grown back in a weird way. There were a couple occasions that an arm attached itself backwards or he had to re-break a leg so that it would heal at the right angle. But this wasn’t a simple case of cutting it off and growing it back.

And no matter how hard he tried to silence the thoughts, the voices in his head were reminding him over and over that he was a freak. There was a part of him that wanted to go grab his highest caliber handgun and blow his brains out, if only to make the damn voices shut up for a few minutes. But then he thought of Peter, whom he had not seen in weeks and would would be devastated. Or at least annoyed at having to clean brain out of the ceiling.

The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled Wade from his thoughts. Peter stepped up to the side of the tub, and said, “You got room for one more?”

Wade almost told him “no”. Almost. Instead he opened the curtain. They maneuvered around each other so that Peter could get under the spray, wetting his unruly hair before reaching for the body wash and Wade’s ultra-soft bath sponge. Peter could tell that Wade was having an off morning, and he knew exactly why. So Peter did the only thing he could think of doing, and continued with life as usual and washed his merc.

Starting with Wade’s hands and moving up his arms, Peter scrubbed with soft motions, making sure to dip between every finger, placing soft kisses as he progressed. Wade melted into the touch, leaning a shoulder against the tiles as he watched Peter’s fingers chase the suds down his chest and stomach. Then Peter knelt down, hands gliding over Wade’s soap-slick thighs, his motions so hypnotic that Wade started to feel less of his worries, focusing only on the beautiful man on his knees.

By the time Peter started on Wade’s calves, the merc was rock hard. Peter smiled up at him, then placed a soft kiss on the head of Wade’s cock before taking the length into his mouth. Wade gripped the bar on the wall with one hand, the other threading through Peter’s hair, his eyes drifting shut. It felt so good, he almost had tears in his eyes.

Then Peter’s finger brushed against that new little nub, and Wade’s knees buckled as his orgasm hit like a bolt of lightening. If not for Peter’s astounding strength, he would have ended up on the floor probably bleeding from the head, instead of in the younger man’s arms with his cock still spurting.

“H-holy shit,” Wade managed to stutter out.

Peter steadied him as he straightened up, hands remaining at Wade’s hips. He was smiling, his dark eyes sparkling as he said, “That was…”

“Quick?” Wade said, ducking away from Peter’s eyes.

“Perfect.” With a soft touch, Peter caught Wade’s chin making him again make eye contact. “You are perfect. So perfect.”

Wade cupped Peter’s cheek, kissing him softly before whispering, “My turn.”

“Wanda and Bob are going to be here in about ten minutes,” Peter said after another kiss.

A wicked smile curled Wade’s lips. “Plenty of time.”

***

Peter barely managed to get his pants on when Wanda and Bob came through the door. Wade came out of the kitchen in his favorite frilly apron and sweatpants, giving Wanda a tight hug and Bob a pat on the head. Before Peter could protest, Wanda hugged him too, patting his hair and whispering, “So pretty, Petey-pie.”

“Uh... Good to see you too?” Peter said with a nervous laugh.

Wanda was dressed the same as yesterday, only her collar was around Bob’s neck and the minion seemed perfectly happy to kneel at her feet when she sat on the couch. A few minutes later, Wade came out of the kitchen, balancing four plates of pancakes and sausage on his arms, which he distributed before taking a seat on the floor at one end of the coffee table, leaving only Peter and Wanda on the couch.

Bob looked up at Wanda, and asked, “May I eat, Mistress?”

“Of course, my pet,” Wanda said magnanimously. Clearly, the two were getting along just fine. After Bob started eating and Wanda had her turn with the maple syrup, she nudged Peter and said, “You show my otherworldly brother a good time?”

“Always a good time with me,” Wade said with a sharky grin, though Peter could tell that he wasn’t feeling comfortable.

Wanda could clearly read him too. Her brow furrowed. “Something’s wrong.” She gestured between Peter and Wade, a gesture that seemed almost menacing when she turned her gaze back to Peter. “You breaking my Wadey-poo’s heart?”

“It’s not like that,” Wade said as he rested a hand on Peter’s knee. He cleared his throat, looking at Bob for a moment, before saying, “Can we talk in private?”

Wanda nodded and sat her plate aside. She nudged Bob, and said, “Stay,” in a firm voice before following Wade and Peter into the bedroom. She sat on the end of the messy bed, looking up at Wade expectantly.

“What’s going on?” Wanda asked.

Wade bit his lip, and said, “Something...happened. To me. When I regenerated. When we regenerated.”

A curious look crossed Wanda’s face, waiting for him to continue.

“Some of my parts are...uh...different?” Wade said, gesturing with his hand in the general direction of his pelvic region.

“Oh…” Wanda said, her eyes a little wide. “Something...not working?”

Wade cleared his throat, clearly agitated. “Things...work. They work just fine. Even, uh, even the extra parts.”

“Dude!” Wanda gasped. “You grew a second dong?!”

“No!” Wade almost shouted, but added a little calmer, “Though that would have been very frigging cool. But no.” His face was turning red, making the scars stand out a little more as he said, “I have female parts.”

Wanda blinked and cocked her head, before saying, “You mean you didn’t have them before?”

Wade and Peter shared a look, then stared at Wanda.

“I’m intersex,” Wanda said with a shrug. “I figured you were too.”

Wade fish-mouthed a couple times before saying, “Seriously?”

Instead of using words, Wanda stood and dropped her pants, revealing that, uh yeah, she was serious. Peter immediately looked away, and Wade shook his head, before saying, “Always? You’ve always been… uh… both?”

“I’m female,” she said as she pulled up her pants. “I just happen to have parts that everyone can enjoy.” She sat back on the bed, and said, “But you… You never were like this? Like me?”

“No,” Wade said, still a little stunned. “I didn’t realize anything was wro---different--until we were, uh, trying to um…you know. And Peter’s hand went… And… It was a shock.”

“That had to be pretty fucking bizzare,” Wanda said sympathetically. She frowned, and said, “So, if you were never like this--like me--before. How did…?”

Wade shrugged. “I don’t know, but I guess you got some of your chocolate in my peanut butter.”

“Or my peanut butter in your chocolate,” Wanda said with a grin. She grabbed Wade’s hand, and said, “Look, bro, I know this is weird. It was weird for me, and I grew up like this. So if you have questions or just want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Wade sat on the bed beside her, still holding her hand. He looked at Peter, then down at the floor. “I really just want to go back to normal.” His eyes went wide, and he quickly added, “Not that I think that there’s anything wrong with you. Far from it. It’s just… My normal.”

“I get it, Wade,” Wanda said, knocking her shoulder against him. “Maybe you just need to be cut in half or something? And maybe you’ll regenerate back the way you were?”

Peter grimaced at the concept. “That sounds really extreme. Not to mention that it might not even work. Your regeneration is based off of your DNA, right? If this is now part of your genetic coding, then cutting off your lower half won’t result in reverting back to your original, all-male body.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, and said, “He’s some kind of genius, isn’t he?”

“My brilliant baby boy,” Wade said with a smile. Then he sighed. “You’re probably right. I gotta get my DNA fixed. But I don’t even know how things got switched around?”

“It had to have been that alien ray,” Wanda said, brow furrowed. “I mean, we were atomized. Maybe our little atoms got confused when they started rebuilding themselves. The only solution may be to be completely atomized again.”

Wade frowned. He didn’t like that idea at all. “Or I could come back with a second head.”

“Or a second dong,” Wanda chuckled.

Peter shrugged. “Or you could just… I don’t know... Embrace it?”

Wade looked at Peter like he was the one with the second head. “It really doesn’t bother you?”

“This isn’t about me,” Peter said with a smile. “This is about you. If you want to try to get your DNA fixed or whatever, then we’ll do it. We’ll go through the multiverse to find a fix if that’s what it takes to make you happy.” Peter leaned down and kissed Wade’s cheek before adding, “No matter what, I’ll be with you.”

Wanda sniffled and looked away as tears fell from her eyes. Wade and Peter shared a look before wrapping Wanda in a double hug. She clung to Wade, sobbing into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Wanda,” Wade said softly. “I know you’re missing Nate. We’ll try to keep the PDA to a minimum, okay sis?”

She pushed them both away, laughing as she said, “Oh, hell. I’m happy for you guys. Really happy. PDA as much as you want.”

Peter patted her knee, and said, “Why don’t we get out of here? Do the New York tour.”

“I do need to get Bob a leash,” Wanda said with a bright smile. She wiped her face as she stood and started towards the door. “I love you guys, you know that?”

“Love you too, sis,” Wade said as she closed the door, somehow knowing that Peter and Wade needed a moment of privacy. He looked at Peter, and said, “Thank you, Peter.”

Peter held Wade’s hand, and asked, “For what?”

“Exactly,” Wade said as he closed the distance between them.

“She really misses him,” Peter said, his forehead resting against Wade’s. “Do you still miss him sometimes?”

Wade sighed. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.” He kissed the corner of Peter’s mouth, and said, “He did a lot for me that I’ll always be grateful for, like actually fixing my brain. But we… We weren’t meant to be. Not forever. Not even before he died.”

Peter nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat as he said, “I love you, Wade.”

“I love you too.” Wade kissed him again, and added, “I hope it’s forever, baby boy.”

 **  
**“Me too.”


	4. Fetishes and Boss Fights Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, Wade, Wanda, and Bob have an outing in the city that ends with fighting a B-list villain. Wanda meets the Earth-616 Avengers and is not impressed.

Peter decided that he really loved Wade and Wanda together. There was something magical about her presence that made Wade more animated, yet somehow subdued. He was excited to get to show Wanda around the city. They went from food truck to food truck, sampling the best street food there was to be found in all of New York, some of which Wanda had never heard of before. Apparently, there are no falafel stands in Earth 722. 

Though it was something that Peter was against, they ended up sneaking into a theater to catch the afternoon show of “50 Shades: The Musical!”. It was a short show, but Wade suddenly decided that Peter needed a shiny sequined tie for bedroom activities. Which is how they ended up at a fetish store called Rough Diamonds looking through some of the shiniest rows of clothing either of the Deadpools had ever seen. 

Wanda let out a squeal of delight when she spotted bedazzled collars in the back. She grabbed Bob’s hand, leading him around the fetish wear, pointing out several different designs. Bob ended up picking one made of red leather with black onyx studs, and he blushed furiously when Wanda slipped it around his neck to try it on for size.

“She’s taking this whole ‘Bob’s a pet’ thing to the next level,” Peter whispered to Wade.

Wade shrugged. “Not too different from what you do with me at home.”

Now Peter was the one blushing. 

“Bro! Over here!” Wanda called from the lingerie department. 

Peter and Wade made their way to where Wanda was holding up a corset. She held it up to Wade, and said, “I think this would look kick ass on you.”

It was dark red, a little darker than Wade’s uniform, with black embellishments and silver clasps. Peter nodded, and looking into Wade’s eyes, said, “I agree with Wanda.”

Wade gave an embarrassed half smile, and shrugged. “I guess.”

Peter took the corset, and said, “But this needs accessories, right?”

“Hells yeah!” Wanda grabbed Wade by the hand and took him to a display of underwear. She grabbed a couple, and said, “I have some like these. They really know how to hug the bait and tackle, if you know what I mean.”

In a few minutes, Wanda had loaded Wade up with all manner of undergarments, recommending them on the basis of how good they felt on the nethers. Then they went to another section, where Wanda started schooling Wade on proper care and cleaning of his new parts, adding vagina-friendly lube and condoms. 

“Peter and I don’t really…” Wade started. “We’re kind of committed and disease free.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and said, “If you are like me? You’re not infertile. Unless you want to get knocked up, use them.”

Wade took the condoms and stuck them on top of his pile. 

After the fetish store, the sun was down and a cool fall wind was starting to blow. The four huddled together, debating on whether to go back to Peter and Wade’s apartment to watch Star Wars Rebels and order pizza, or if they should check out the new Mexican restaurant that had just opened up near Central Park. 

They were just about to head towards the subway when there was a loud crackling sound followed by several successive booms. A few minutes later, a man on a hoverboard wearing a flaming pumpkin mask came flying out of the park, swooping into the streets of Manhattan.

Peter rolled his eyes as he said, “Jack O’Lantern. Fucking really?”

Wanda looked at Wade, and then both looked at Peter, and in unison shouted, “Boss Fight!!”

And they were off running, leaving Peter standing beside Bob. Bob looked like he was about to piss his pants, and was mumbling a constant chant of, “Hail Hydra, Hail Hydra, Hail Hydra…” Peter shoved his shopping bags into Bob’s arms, then tossed him his phone and said, “Call the Avengers.”

Peter dashed into an alley, and quickly threw off his jeans and hoodie, and pulled his mask over his face. Though it was supposed to be a casual day out with friends, Peter never left home without his costume or web shooters. In less than a minute, Peter was following the cascade of explosions as he swung through the streets. 

Wanda and Wade had already caught up to the bomb throwing menace, and were casually hitting the grenades back at the headless horseman knock off baseball style with their katanas, and seeming to have a great time while doing it. Both had somehow changed into their costumes, and Peter had no idea where the hell Wade or Wanda were hiding their swords. 

Peter swung down to the street, webbing Jack O’Lantern’s hoverboard and throwing the villain off balance. He slammed into the side of a nearby hotdog cart, sending buns and sausages flying through the air. The villain jumped up, flames erupting from the eyes of his mask as he threw a fresh volley of grenades Peter’s direction, each knocked away by a ball of webbing. They fell to the street, leaving fresh craters with each explosion. 

A group of tourists were outside, watching the events unfold with their cell phone cameras recording the action. Jack O’Lantern noticed them, and started lobbing his bombs their direction. Wade rushed to catch them and ended up blowing his own hand off in the process. Peter had to fight to keep from panicking at the sight of Wade’s destroyed stump, had to remind himself that it would all grow back.

Wanda took advantage of the villain’s distraction, and tackled him to the ground, slamming the hilt of her katana into the back of his head. The mask shattered with the impact, and after a second hit, he was unconscious--and probably had a concussion. Wanda quickly removed Jack’s grenade pouch and discovered there was a bomb at the bottom, set to explode in less than two minutes. 

“Do you know anything about disarming bombs?” Wanda asked Wade as he came over, the fragments of his destroyed arm in his good hand. 

Wade shook his head. “Not really. I usually just sit on them and let someone else pick up the pieces.”

An electronic voice said, “Luckily the actual professionals are here.”

“Iron Man!” Wanda said, the eyes of her mask wide with joy and surprise as Tony Stark came in for a landing. She tossed him the satchel. 

Peter swung over to the group, asking breathlessly as he landed, “Can you defuse it?”

“Child’s play,” Tony said as he took the device out. A few seconds later, the countdown stopped. 

Peter looked at Wade’s arm, and said, “That looks painful.”

Wade shrugged. “It kind of sucks, but I’ll be okay, baby boy. Couple hours, I’ll be good as new.”

Regardless of the cameras that were no doubt on them, Spiderman and Deadpool shared a kiss through their masks. 

“So sweet,” Tony said with obvious disgust. He flipped up his mask, looking from Wanda to Wade and back, before saying, “Why the hell are there two fuckin’ Deadpools in this city?” He looked at Peter. “Did you have something to do with this? Seriously?”

“This is Wanda Summers,” Peter said, gesturing to Lady Deadpool. “She’s from Earth-722, and is one of their Avengers.”

Tony barked a laugh, and said, “Wow. What a fucked up universe that has to be.”

Wanda cocked her head, and in a tone that was daring a fight, snapped, “Excuse me, mother fucker? What did you just say?”

“Such eloquence,” Tony said with a roll of his eyes. “How did you end up here? Let me guess, Wade kidnapped you? You kidnapped him? Is this another one of those Deadpool kills everyone situations, because if so, I’m locking both of you up right now.”

“We just stopped this asshole!” Wanda snapped. She gestured to Wade, and said, “He let himself be hurt to save innocent civilians. Is this seriously how you treat a hero?”

“Whatever you may be in your world, Wade is not a hero and never will be,” Tony said venomously. “There’s not enough bleach in the world to get the blood off his hands.”

For the last couple years, Wade had worked exclusively for SHIELD, not taking any mercenary jobs and only killing people when he was left with no other choice. He had worked very hard to change his ways, and Peter couldn’t be more proud of his progress. Peter was always having to defend Wade to the other Avengers, and more than once Tony had threatened to have Spiderman removed from their ranks because of their relationship. 

“That’s enough, Tony,” Peter said, stepping towards him. “This is not the time or the place for this discussion.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Peter, be reasonable. The last month has been blissfully Deadpool-free. Not thrilled that there’s two of them now.” Then he stepped closer to Wanda, and said, “If I were you, I would get the fuck out of this universe. Go back to where you’re actually wanted and take this other waste of life with you.”

Wade inhaled sharply, and said, “Leave my sister alone, Tony.”

“Sister!” Tony practically shouted, laughing. “Oh, wow. Wow. Just. That’s precious. Wow. I can’t.” He looked at Spiderman, and said, “You get a new kink, Parker. I--oof!”

Tony was cut off by Wanda’s fist in his face. Blood spurted from his newly broken nose and Iron Man stumbled back. He scowled, the face plate snapping down as he raised a charged repulsor. 

At that moment, Thor dropped down from the sky, Mjolnir in his hand and a delighted smile on his face as he stepped in front of Tony and threw his arms around Wade. In his big, booming voice, he said, “I was not aware you had returned, Sir Deadpool! You have the scent of other realms upon your skin.”

“Thor!” Tony growled through the electronic voice of the suit. 

Thor looked at Tony, and said, “Man of Iron, I believe that the Captain has need of you. I shall standby until SHIELD arrives.”

“She broke my nose,” Tony lamented.

“Aye,” Thor said with a stern look. “And you were quite rude to the fair lady. Had she not done the honors, it would be my fist, Stark.”

“Fair la--” Tony cut himself off, seeing the flicker in Thor’s eyes that might have been lightning. Wade and Wanda extended their middle fingers on all available hands as Tony took off. Peter put an arm around Wade's waist, and Wanda removed her mask as she turned to Thor.

“Why?” she asked, obvious pain in her face. “Why do they treat him this way?”

Thor sighed. “It is very complicated, Lady Deadpool. Whilst Sir Deadpool and I have had many worthy battles, I know of the goodness that is in his heart. He struggles to be better, and thus I find him to be a good and honorable warrior.”

Wanda smiled, and said, “It’s good to know someone is the same in this universe.”

“You pay me a great compliment, milady,” Thor said with a bow. He held out an arm and said, “SHIELD comes. I feel it would be wise to speak to the Captain concerning these matters. If you wish, I can convey you to the Tower.”

Peter nodded. “I’d prefer to make my own way, if it’s all the same with you.”

“I’m gonna ride Peter,” Wade said with an obvious grin under his mask.

“I’ll take the Mjolnir express,” Wanda said brightly as she pulled her own mask back over her face. She stepped on Thor’s left foot and hugged him around the waist, obviously used to Asgardian god-travel protocols. A moment later, they were in the air. 

Wade watched them ascend, then looked down at his ruined right hand. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to hold on, baby boy.”

“Don’t worry,” Peter said, sidling close to Wade and putting an arm around him. “I got you.”

Wade let himself be carried, and was again reminded of how much strength there was to be found in Peter’s body. They took off into the sky, swooping higher and higher. They came to rest on the middle landing of Avengers Tower, but Peter did not let Wade go. For a moment, Wade was confused as to why they were just standing there. Then Peter lifted both of their masks and kissed the merc until they both had to draw back to catch their breath. 

“We’ll get this done fast,” Peter said softly, his lips brushing against Wade’s with every syllable. “I kind of can’t wait to see you in that corset.”

“Might not look too sexy with my arm like this,” Wade whispered, holding up his arm, which was already healing. The part that had been blown off had closed off in a stump of scarred flesh. 

“There’s nothing about you I don’t find sexy,” Peter said as he kissed Wade’s wounded forearm. Then he kissed Wade again, long and slow before saying, “Let’s go in here and take care of business.”

Peter got on Wade’s good side and held his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze before they walked inside the Tower where Wanda and Thor were waiting. 

“You okay?” Wanda asked Wade, looking at his wounded arm. 

"Doing good." Wade whacked her on the back with his stump, and said, “Let’s get this debriefing party started so I can get home and de-brief.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, I actually like Tony Stark. I just kind of hate him when he's on the same page as Deadpool.


	5. Fetishes and Boss Fights Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda gets to meet Captain America, and Wade gets an unexpected offer.

The debriefing was somewhat tense, especially with Tony scowling at Wade and Wanda from across the table with his nose stuffed with cotton. Steve Rogers was very diplomatic and calm, only asking questions that pertained to the incident concerning Jack O’Lantern, who was now in SHIELD custody. Once again, the Captain proved why he was the all-around, All-American man, and example of what any human should strive to be. 

At least, that was Wade’s opinion. No matter their past conflicts, anyone who was nice to Wanda was someone who was A-okay in Wade’s book. After they were finished talking about the attack, Steve asked questions about the other universe. He seemed fascinated to learn about his and the rest of the team’s counterparts. He blushed when Wanda referred to him as General, and laughed when Wanda insisted that he needed a promotion. 

Cap smirked, and said, “I think I prefer to be a Captain, Miss Wilson.”

“Summers,” Wanda corrected with a smile.

He cocked his head, glancing to Wade. “As in Nathan Summers?”

“Yes,” Wanda said cheerfully, though her smile faltered. 

“He was an amazing man,” Steve said. “I was fortunate to know him.”

“So was I,” she said, leaning her shoulder against Wade, who put his slowly healing arm around her. “It seems that he is destined to sacrifice himself in every universe.”

Steve nodded, and cleared his throat before asking, “Would you like to take a tour of the Tower? Perhaps you’ll see something of interest to take to your world.”

Wanda shook her head. “No. I don’t think that will be necessary. Forgive me for saying this Captain, but I’m not sure there is anything of the Avengers that I want to bring back.” 

“Probably for the best,” Tony snarked. 

Wanda grinned, a look that was more menacing than cordial, though her voice was pleasant as she said, “You know, Tony, I think you’re wasting your best assets. You are so much more enjoyable when you’re shutting the fuck up.”

Peter nearly choked on his water. So many times, so many occasions, that thought had crossed his mind. He didn’t just like Wanda. He loved her. 

“Funny. Coming from a Deadpool,” Tony said as he stood. He wasn’t as calm or pleasant. “Must be nice being the Avenger’s pet psychopath.”

Wade glared at Tony, and growled, “Gotta be a notch above the pet drunk.”

Steve stood up, that Captain America look on his face, as he said, “Enough.” 

Wade looked down, feeling thoroughly chastised, expecting a tongue lashing from the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. Expecting to be told to leave, to get out of New York, to be told it was his fault mommy and daddy were fighting. Instead...

“I think it’s time you leave, Tony,” Steve said sternly. 

“This is my goddamn building,” Tony practically shouted.

“Then you should know the way to your penthouse,” Steve snapped back.

For a moment, Tony looked like he was going to swing on Captain America. He puffed up, his shoulders and arms tensing, before he turned on his heels, disappearing out the door of the meeting room. 

Wanda was also on her feet. She looked at Wade, and said, “I don’t think this was a good idea. I feel like I’m making trouble for you.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before in triplicate,” Wade said with a resigned shrug of his shoulders. “This is my life. Gotta accept it, I guess.”

Looking at Steve, Wanda said, “I’ve lived the same life as him, Captain. I was a mercenary. I am a product of Weapon X. My Steve Rogers and I had many conflicts throughout the decades, and still my General can see my worth. Why don’t you see Wade’s?”

“A few months ago, I might have argued with you. I might have said that people can’t change. That there’s no reason to give a mercenary assassin like you or Wade a chance at anything.” Steve looked somewhat uncomfortable, then he took a deep breath before letting out a long sigh, then looked at Wanda. “Does your General have a friend named Bucky?”

Wanda nodded. “Yes. They call him the Winter Soldier.”

Steve frowned. “That’s what they call him here too. Right now, he’s living here in a secured part of the Tower, slowly getting his mind back.” He looked at Wade, then down at the table. “He was experimented on, had his memories erased, brainwashed, became an assassin, and nearly killed me. But… I’m willing to take the chance that he belongs here.”

Peter cocked his head, knowing exactly where the Captain was going. 

Steve huffed a laugh, and said, “Fact is, Wade deserves more of my confidence at this point.” He looked at Wade. “You’ve been an asset to our team many times in the last couple of years. I admit that I am still skeptical, but I would be a hypocrite to say that you can’t change when you already have.”

Wade grabbed Peter’s elbow, and said, “Am I hallucinating right now?”

“This is real, Wade,” Peter said with a sad smile. Sad, because Wade can never believe it when someone says something even remotely good about him. 

“So…?” Wade said, looking at Steve. “Does this mean I get my membership papers?”

“There are steps,” Steve said. “Things that I would appreciate if you would do before you are added to the roster.”

Wade felt sort of light headed. “Like what?”

“There’s a group that meets in the Tower twice a week. Sort of a support group, you could say. It’s small, but consists of mostly… Well, people like you, who are trying to change.” Steve smiled, and said, “I would appreciate it if you would start coming to the meetings.”

“What? Super villain AA?” Wade scoffed, though he was practically tingling with the idea that Captain-freaking America was asking him to do anything at the Tower. “Do we all hold hands and say, ‘Hi, my name is Wade, I’ve been a bad, bad boy’?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Steve said, trying not to laugh.

Wade looked at Wanda and Peter, confused. Then he asked Steve, "But why?"

"So we can get on the same page," Steve answered. He seemed reluctant to add, "I want to know that you are dedicated to the changes you have made, regardless of other factors. As in you won't change your mind should something happen in your personal life."

Wade wanted to say that he didn't stop being a mercenary because of Peter, but even he knew that was a lie. Fact is, Peter was the reason for everything good in his life, was the reason for him to try. They had their fights and falling outs, but Peter truly believed in him--even when he was mad because Wade caused a little too much destruction, was gone too long on a mission, or used one of his text books as a napkin. 

Thor, who had been sitting quietly at the end of the table up to that point, said, “I am often a participant in the gatherings, as well as your friend Logan, and the Captain’s companion, Bucky.”

“You?” Wade said with obvious surprise. “But you’re a god. You’re the uber good guy with the Hammer of Worthiness.”

“We all have our demons, Sir Deadpool,” Thor said, giving Wade a self-deprecating smile. “I must fight my own pride and vanity, which has many times caused me to falter.” He paused a moment before adding in a softer voice, “As well as try to come to peace with the death of my brother.”

Wade looked at Peter as if there might be answers in the younger man’s eyes. He saw love, pride, joy, and an encouraging smile. After a moment, Wade gave his best nonchalant shrug, and said, "I guess i can go. I mean, I may have to pencil you in between Golden Girl marathons and Taco Tuesdays. But, I will make an effort, Oh Captain, my Captain."

That seemed to be enough for Cap. He stood up and shook Wade's hand, and said, "Thanks for your help tonight, Wade." Then he turned to the Lady Deadpool. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Wanda."

"Likewise, Captain," she replied with a sweet smile. 

***

With Thor leading the way, the group walked to the common room where Natasha and Clint were sitting on the couch, looking as if they had seen some action that evening too. Natasha elbowed Clint, and pointed towards the door. Clint’s face twisted in confusion before he hopped up off the couch and headed towards the group with a confused smile on his face.

Wanda almost got excited seeing them, but stayed silent and observed. Thor was obviously an ally. But Wade had hinted that he and Hawkeye were not exactly friendly, and his encounters with Black Widow had usually ended badly. At least Captain America was one of the good guys. 

Clint said to Peter, “Guess you guys found the other idiot villain of the night.”

Peter nodded and lifted his mask up to his nose so Clint could see his lips. “Jack O’Lantern is a punk. An annoying punk.”

“No shit,” Clint said. “We got stuck with some Taskmaster look alike that wasn’t even close to being Taskmaster. I was actually disappointed, and then I felt bad. Dude pissed his pants.”

Thor laughed, and said, “We should count nights like these a victory when none are killed or injured.” Then he looked at Wade, and amended, “At least, not gravely injured. Forgive me, Sir Deadpool.”

“It’s fine,” Wade said, waving him off with his ever-healing stump. He now had his wrist and his hand was starting to form. Another hour, and it would be back to normal. 

Clint motioned between Wade and Wanda, and said, “Where did you get your new fangirl, Wade?”

“Not a fangirl,” Wade answered, signing as best he could with his good hand. “She’s my sister from another universal-mister.”

“I’m from Earth-722,” Wanda said with a smile as she removed her mask completely, catching on that this Clint Barton couldn’t hear. 

Clint nodded his head. “Interesting. How you like our world?”

The smile fell away, and Wanda answered, “Your world is fine, except that everyone is an asshole towards my male doppelganger.”

“Tony,” Thor interjected. “He was rather rude to Lady Deadpool. And I fear that he was drinking before he entered the battle.”

“Is anyone shocked by this?” Natasha said. She turned her attention to Wanda, giving a twitch of a smile. She had a scrape on her chin that she was dabbing with a cloth. “Guess you’re getting the crash course in Avengers etiquette.”

“Or lack there of,” Wanda said with an eye roll. “Your Tony Stark is a philistine.”

Clint blinked. “A what?”

Wade signed out the word, “Philistine”, which made Hawkeye burst out laughing. 

Peter noticed that Wade was starting to look a little peckish. He knew that regrowing a limb, even half a limb, took a lot out of the merc. On top of that, Wade was starting to get antsy. This wasn’t the way he liked to do things when it came to the Avengers. Wade was used to being unwanted, so he typically avoided places where he would have to face that fact. Even with Cap offering an olive branch that potentially led to actual membership, Wade was obviously ready to depart. 

Luckily, Clint yawned, and said, “I’m hitting the bunk. You kids have fun, okay.” He tapped Peter’s shoulder as he passed, and said, “Don’t have too much fun, Parker.”

Natasha followed behind Clint, giving a ghost of a smile as she passed Wanda. 

“This has been…” Wanda started, looking around the common room and making a few faces, before finishing, “...enlightening.”

Wade sighed. “I kinda hoped you wouldn’t have to experience the love of the Avengers on your first day here.”

“Wasn’t that bad, bro,” Wanda said with a smile. “Considering that you’ve got your food in the proverbial door, I’d say today was a success. And!” Her eyes lit up as she bounced and said, “I got to punch Tony Stark!’

Peter laughed, and said, “I’m actually jealous. That’s kind of been a fantasy of mine since forever.”

“Can we go now?” Wade said with a hint of whine in his voice. 

Wanda and Peter both put an arm around Wade, propping him up from both sides as they started walking. They looked like a happy unit, but in reality, Wade was starting to get wobbly on his feet. Without the assistance, he would be stumbling out of the building. 

One SHIELD approved taxi ride later, and they were back at Wade and Peter’s apartment. It was nearing midnight, but still early enough to get a pizza delivered from the place across the street. Peter ended up ordering five pizzas while Wade showered and Wanda called Bob. 

Bob and the pizza arrived at the same time. There was a moment of awkward staring between the two, as the delivery guy took in the sight of Bob with his collar carrying several bags from a fetish store. The pizzas were set on the kitchen counter, and Bob was taken by Wanda to be checked out for damages during the fight. She seemed very pleased that he ran away rather than attempt to help. 

Peter took their stuff from the fetish store to the bedroom, dumping it all out on the bed. They kind of went overboard, but it seemed like one of those times when Wade needed to feel pretty. He picked out a pair of lacey black underwear from the pile, and walked into the bathroom after a soft knock. 

Wade was just stepping out, his hand again fully regrown. He saw what Peter had in his hand and raised an eyebrow. 

“You know we have guests, sweetums,” Wade said softly. 

Peter nodded, and grabbed a towel from the rack. He started dabbing the water from Wade’s skin, and said, “I was just thinking about how sexy you would look in these.” He smiled seeing the way Wade was blushing. He always blushed with any compliment. Peter leaned closer, speaking a little softer as he said, “Do you know how hard it will be for me to concentrate knowing you are wearing these?”

Wade let out a little growl before pushing Peter against the wall and kissing him. The merc’s hands roamed down the lean muscle of Peter’s chest, tasting the sweet flavor of citrus from whatever he’d been drinking before coming into the bathroom. The last 24 hours had been very confusing for Wade, and all of it had turned his head into a static mess. Too many thoughts, too many voices, too many surprises. He needed a still point, somewhere for his world to anchor. For him, in this moment, that anchor point was where his rough lips were pressed against Peter Parker. 

“So quiet,” Wade said, when they parted. 

Peter smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. He kissed his merc again, and said, “Get dressed. Bob’s getting Battlestar Galactica going.”

Wade nodded, and took the black lacy panties from Peter’s hand as he kissed the tip of his nose. “I’ll be there in a minute.”


	6. Meeting the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aunt May comes over for breakfast, and Wade gets an idea to cheer up Wanda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the time I uploaded this, the story had 616 hits. 
> 
> This is a pointless observation. Enjoy the chapter.

Peter woke laying sideways on the bed with Wade using him as a pillow. The night had been good. Mostly. They ate pizza, watched too many episodes of Battlestar Galactica, and discussed the potential of taking a few days to travel around. Wanda decided that she needed to see New Orleans because the city did not exist in her world. Then Wade started talking about creole food and Mardi Gras, and it was clear Peter needed to check into vacation days from the Bugle.

By the time they got around to going to bed, both Peter and Wade were ready to collapse. Then Wade took off his lounge pants and Peter caught sight of his lacy undies, and remembered that it had been weeks since they last had actual sex. Shower blowjob notwithstanding. Thus, Peter made an attempt at seducing Wade--which typically was a point and click operation. But when Peter had brushed against his new, overly-sensitive parts, Wade had a small panic attack. 

Peter genuinely felt bad, too. It was heartbreaking to see Wade feel so uncomfortable in his own skin. For the first few months that they were together, Wade refused to be naked in front of Peter. At least, not with the lights on. Otherwise, he kept his body covered, only exposing the necessary areas for whatever they decided to do. Slowly but surely, Peter convinced Wade that the scars were no concern, that he actually loved the feel of them and found Wade beautiful--not despite the scars, but because of them. 

Before he left on the Multiverse mission, Wade and Peter spent almost a week without clothing, lounging around the apartment, watching TV, playing video games, and enjoying every kind of debauchery imaginable. Wade had no inhibitions. Now, he was almost back to square one, and Peter didn’t know how to make this okay. All he knew was that he wouldn’t push. Thus, he did a little deep breathing to will away his erection, and snuggled with Wade until they both fell asleep. 

Still, even if Wade took months to get back to feeling good again, Peter would stick with him. That much was certain. Peter loved the merc, and there was nothing that would change that. 

Wade stirred a few minutes after Peter woke, his golden eyes blinking away the sleep. He looked up at Peter who was smiling at him with those big doe eyes, and Wade smiled, stretching as he said, “Like what you see, sweetums?”

“Absolutely,” Peter said as he leaned down and kissed Wade’s forehead before migrating to his lips. 

Wade hummed contentedly before saying, “I guarantee my view is purdier.”

“Impossible,” Peter answered, kissing him again. 

Their lips parted, and Wade sighed. “About last night, I--”

“No,” Peter said, cutting him off. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

Wade frowned. “I safeworded during foreplay. That’s--”

“Why we have safewords,” Peter interrupted again. He smiled a soft smile, not mocking, not judging, and for the millionth time, Wade wondered how the hell he was so damned lucky. It almost hurt to see so much love and acceptance staring back at him. Wade never felt like he deserved it, especially from someone so good as Peter Parker. The man was a saint in red and blue spandex.

After a few more slow kisses and snuggles, Wade headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. 

Wanda and Bob had stayed the night on the pull out sofa. Wanda was happily sprawled out in the middle of the bed, with Bob curled up at the foot like a very large, content cat. He did his best to keep quiet as possible in the kitchen, hoping to let the savory aroma of hashbrowns and bacon do the work of an alarm clock. He started a pot of coffee, some kind of blueberry blend that Peter found while he was away. It smelled like muffins when it started to percolate. 

Then there was a knock on the door, and Wade frowned trying to figure out who might be knocking. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and peeked through the viewer to see May Parker standing outside the door. Then he mentally cursed, remembering that it was Sunday. And May always came by for breakfast on Sundays. 

Plastering on his best smile, Wade opened the door and May’s face lit up as she wrapped him in a warm, motherly hug as she stepped inside. 

She cupped his cheeks, and said, “Peter didn’t tell me you were back! Oh, this is a wonderful surprise. You look tired.”

Wade grinned. “Yeah, it was a long trip.” He hugged her again, kissing the top of her head with an exaggerating smoothing sound before tugging her into the kitchen. “Petey’s still in the shower, and uh… We have a couple other guests.”

May raised an eyebrow. “You sound very mysterious.”

“It’s... kind of strange?” Wade said with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “I sort of found my long-lost, uh, twin sister.”

May’s mouth fell open in a silent ‘o’. 

Wade nodded. “Yeah. Kind of a shock to me too.”

May didn’t know anything about Wade’s work, or Peter’s for that matter. According to May, Wade was a private detective working for Agency X (which wasn’t exactly a lie, but not exactly the truth by a long shot), and Peter was just a reporter for the Daily Bugle. Though, there were many times that Wade thought that May knew more than she let on. It was the things she said, as if she was hinting for them to tell her something that she already knew. Then again, Wade was always kind of paranoid.

“I can leave, if you’re not ready to introduce the rest of your family,” May said after a moment. 

Wade thought about that for a moment, and realized that for the first time in his whole life, he actually had someone he called family to introduce to someone else. He smiled, and said, “Nah, I think she’d like to meet you.” He headed towards the living room, but ducked back into the kitchen, and added, “Oh, and Bob’s here.”

May laughed. “Oh dear.”

Wanda was already up and dressed, and holding her sidearm when Wade entered the living room. She raised an eyebrow, obviously curious as to who was in the kitchen. 

“Peter’s aunt is here,” Wade said with a smile. “She’s Peter’s only family.”

Wanda nodded and tucked the gun in her waistband. “Do I need to vanish for a bit? Take Bob for a walk?”

“What? No!” Wade laughed. “No, I want you to meet her. Come on.”

She tugged him back, and said, “But… I’m… Is she nice?”

“The only thing nicer than Miss May is a snuggling kitten,” Wade said with a grin.

May was sitting at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee when Wade and Wanda came back. She stood up, smiling as she looked from one to the other, then said, “It’s amazing how much you two look alike!” Then Wanda found herself being pulled into a hug, and she tensed up before awkwardly patting May on the back. 

“Uh, hi?” Wanda said as she was released. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m Wanda.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” May said with a sweet smile. She picked up her coffee cup, and said, “How did you two find out about each other? I mean, it has to be exciting to meet your twin after so long.”

Wanda looked at Wade, and they had a split second of silent communication during which Wade was able to pass on that secret identities were secret, and Wanda said, “Turns out we are in the same line of work. Met on the job.” She made a vague motion between them, and said, “Not too many people look like we do.”

“I think it’s the eyes that really show it,” May said with a nod. One thing that Wade had always adored about May Parker--she never once called attention to his scars. When Peter had suggested that they meet, Wade put it off for as long as possible, to the point that Peter was starting to get upset. It was last Thanksgiving, and Wade was a nervous wreck the entire way across town to May’s house. So bad he was actually shaking and nauseous.

Then May opened the door and didn’t flinch. She didn’t hesitate to take his hand, which quickly turned into a hug that Wade wasn’t remotely prepared for. He really didn’t expect to be welcomed into her home or to spend half the day talking about different recipes for cherry pie. Wade would have been contented with awkward silence, but he was blown away by her kindness. He wasn’t the least embarrassed to admit that it brought him to tears.

Now, May was swiftly winning the heart of another Deadpool. Wade was certain that May was some sort of magical creature sent to this world to make it better, just like her nephew. 

Peter was all smiles when he came into the kitchen. He gave his Aunt a big hug, then helped Wade finish up breakfast while Bob set the table. It was the first time that five had gathered for a meal in their suddenly small-feeling apartment. Not small, but cozy and full of good conversation and laughter. Lots of laughter on the part of Wade and Wanda, who were telling a heavily abridged version of their adventure in the Multiverse, along with sharing a few uncanny details of their pasts. 

After breakfast was long finished, and the coffee pot was on its third refill, May departed. It took about ten minutes for her to get out the door, because Wanda, Wade, and Bob kept talking and diving in for another hug. Finally, Peter walked May down to the street to wait for a cab.

Bob went to work cleaning up the kitchen without prompting, and Wanda tugged on Wade’s shirt before saying, “I think I get it now.”

Wade raised a hairless eyebrow. “Get what, sister?”

“Why you wanted to come back.” Wanda laughed, then shook her head. “You know, after yesterday with Tony and seeing the kind of shit they throw your way, I thought you were crazy for wanting to stay here. But I get it. You have a family here.” She smiled at him, though her eyes were shimmering. “I mean, they love you. She loves you. So does Peter. It’s really nice.”

“Come here,” Wade said as he pulled her into a tight hug. He patted the back of her head, and said, “It’s not something only for me, babe. You know that, right? Someday, you’re gonna have the things you want and deserve.”

“I had it, Wade,” Wanda sobbed. “But it’s gone, it’s all gone…”

“I know, sis,” Wade said softly. He remembered that pain so well, not just of losing Nate, but also the pain of seeing other people happy. It hurt so much to see joy in others, like a nagging reminder of what was supposed to be his and what was now gone. Wade was bitter and angry for years, his mind becoming just as disorganized and damaged as it was before Nate fixed him. And the voices… They just wouldn’t shut up. Then came the hallucinations. Always Nathan with sad eyes and never speaking. 

Wanda hiccuped, and said, “I just want to be happy again. I hate this feeling, like everything that was good is gone, and I’m going to live forever with this emptiness.”

Wade frowned, hugging her a little tighter. She was voicing his deepest, darkest fear. Peter was not immortal. He could be killed as easily as any human. He had a bit of a healing factor, and more than likely he would live for a very long time, but that doesn’t change the fact that one day he will be gone. And Wade will still be alive and alone. 

“Guess we gotta make the most of the time we have,” Wade said softly. “Cuz yeah, forever is a very long time. But, even if it is a shitty consolation, I’m gonna be here too.”

She huffed a laugh, and said, “That is oddly comforting. Misery with company.”

Wade shifted back to look at her. “That’s why you’re here, right?”

She nodded. “You give me hope.”

“I also gave you Bob,” Wade said with a grin.

Wanda laughed, and turned around to see Bob standing in the kitchen doorway, looking kind of lost and sad. She turned back to Wade, and said, “Thanks. Really. I know I’m a sobbing mess half the time, but…”

“It’s what family’s for, right?” Wade said with a nonchalant shrug. He hugged her again, and said, “We should take up some kind of hobby. Like painting or…”

“Knitting!” Wanda blurted. She grinned, and said, “I always wanted to learn to knit.”

“Knitting could be exciting,” Wade said with a grin.

Peter had just stepped inside, and asked, “You’re going to start knitting?”

“Absolutely!” both Wade and Wanda said in unison. 

“I can make Bob a hat!” Wanda said, gushing excitement.

And Wade added, “I’ll make you some mittens for these cold winters of web slinging.”

Peter laughed, and said, “Okay. Um....Do either of you know how to knit? At all?”

The Deadpools shook their heads in unison.

“I’ll talk to Aunt May,” Peter said with a smile. “She’s freakishly good at knitting.”

Wanda was buzzing with joy as she rushed over to Peter and grabbed his shoulders, bouncing as she said, “I love your Aunt!”

“She loves you too,” Peter said sincerely. Then he looked over her shoulder where Bob was standing, and said, “You too, Bob.”

Bob grinned and went back in the kitchen.


	7. New Sensations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda offers some guidance, and Wade takes her advice.

The Corner Hobby Shop was only a few blocks from Wade and Peter's apartment. It was a place that Wade shopped frequently because they sold the right shade of red material to fix his suits. Though few knew it, both Wade and Peter were pretty handy with a sewing machine. But hidden talents were just part of the superhero life. 

Other than fabric, there was a large section for cross stitch, embroidery, painting and art supplies, and a substantial selection of yarn.

Ethel, the owner, smiled at Wade when he came through the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson. How's the quilt coming along?"

"Excellent," he answered with a bright smile. "Just a few more blocks, and I'll bring it by." Wade gestured to Wanda, and said, "My sister and I want to try out knitting. I figured this was the place to get supplies."

Ethel stepped out from behind the counter, motioning for them to follow her to the back of the store. She pointed out the needles, explained the uses of the different types, defined things like worsted and skein, then left the Deadpools to make their selections when another customer came in. 

"She's sweet," Wanda said as she studied a set of bone needles. 

Wade shrugged. "I stopped a jerk from stealing her purse a few years back."

Wanda grinned, then said, "I wonder how complicated this will be. I mean, I can garrote a dude, but I couldn't figure out how to tie a tie to save my life."

"Yeah, me neither," Wade said. He turned around towards the yarn. "Peter always ties mine. Not that I have many occasions to wear them."

"Nate tried to teach me," Wanda said. Then she laughed. "I'd always get it backwards with the little end in front. Nate thought it was funny as hell, and would wear my backwards ties to meetings just to see if anyone said something about it."

Wade looked at her, and was happy to see that she wasn't on the verge of tears. He tossed a skein of metallic silver yarn to Wanda, and said, "They should call that TO Mesh instead of Winter Tinsel."

Wanda snorted a laugh, then tucked the yarn into her basket. She scanned the colors, amazed at the many different shades and dye combinations. After adding Deadpool red and Spiderman blue to her yarn collection, she asked, "How's things with you and Peter going?"

"Good. Perfect," Wade answered. Then at Wanda’s knowing look, he said, "I'm having trouble. Peter wanted sex last night, and I wanted to have a panic attack." He picked up a dark green yarn with yellow and blue flecks, and said, "The new parts are weird. And...sensitive. I shoot off faster than a teenager with his first hard on."

"Have you masturbated yet?" Wanda asked bluntly, making Wade check the aisle to make sure no one was around to hear them. 

His face was burning red under the scars, his voice a barely there whisper add he said, "Not exactly. Like I said, it's awkward."

"Sex is always awkward at first," Wanda said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You'll never be comfortable if you don't do a little experimenting."

Wade frowned. "I don't want to embarrass myself."

She put a hand on his arm and said, "Do you really think Peter is going to judge you? Have you met Peter?" Before he could say anything else, she said, "My suggestion? Both of you get naked and touch."

Wade’s face was turning a darker shade of red. "It's when he touches me that I get weird. And I hate it because I love him."

"Then have him watch you touch yourself," Wanda answered. "Show him how to touch you now. Guide him. Figure it out together."

He bit his lip. "I...I don't...I am not comfortable..."

"Just think about it," Wanda said with a part on his arm. Then she picked up a skein of yarn and asked, "What do you think? Is this Hydra green?"

Wade nodded. "Close enough, sis."

***

After picking up a couple items from the grocery store for dinner, Wade walked with Wanda back to Bob’s apartment. Wanda said nothing else about Wade and Peter's sex life, other than she wanted to give them some alone time. Wade insisted that she should come over, that he didn't bring her here to ignore her, to which Wanda rolled her eyes.

Going back home, Wade felt tense. He knew that Wanda was right. He needed to take a chance, because Peter was the poster boy for being understanding with Wade's idiosyncrasies. Peter cared about him, wanted him to feel safe and comfortable. He was patient and never pushy. At least not when it came to Wade's insecurities. 

Peter greeted Wade at the door with a kiss, taking the groceries to the kitchen, where Wade showed him the things purchased at the hobby store. They ended up buying several sets of needles, scissors, pattern books, and enough yarn to make ten blankets. Aunt May wanted Wade and Wanda to come over Wednesday for their first knitting lesson, and for a while Wade was distracted by talk of his new hobby. 

They ate dinner on the couch, sitting close enough to touch and to steal bites from each other's plates. Wade did the dishes while Peter checked his emails to prepare for work Monday. Once Wade was finished, he came by to kiss the back of Peter's neck before heading to the shower. 

Wade scrubbed, his mind drifting back to what Wanda said. Peter was the kind of person who would probably love the idea of watching and participating in Wade's self exploration. It's not like they've never jerked of together, though for some reason the idea of this felt more intimate. This was something Wade never did before. The more he thought about it, though, the more he wanted to share this with Peter. 

The only problem was, Wade didn't know how to go about it. The thought of walking up to Peter and saying, "Hey, baby boy. Wanna watch me diddle myself?" seemed a little too forward. If he was joking about it, he would have no problem with that approach. But this wasn't a joke; this was something he needed to do. 

By the time Wade was out of the shower, Peter was in the bedroom on the end of the bed looking a million kinds of sexy. The younger man looked up at him with a soft smile, his eyes tired but happy. For a moment, Wade considered backing out and leaving this for another day. 

"You ready for bed?" Peter asked as he lay back with his arms behind his head. 

The merc nodded then sat beside Peter, his back straight and hands on his knees. A little rigid for someone claiming to be winding down. 

Peter tugged on the back of Wade's t-shirt, and said, "Wade?"

"I..." Wade laughed nervously, then said, "There's something I want to, uh, talk to you about. It's...a little... kind of... It's hard for me to say this."

Peter sat up, slipping his arm around the merc's waist and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "You know you can tell me anything."

Wade nodded, looking down into Peter's chocolate brown eyes. He swallowed hard. "I guess this isn't so much tell as it is show?" 

Peter raised an eyebrow, and after another moment of hesitation, Wade stood up and started removing his clothes. It wasn't his usual strip tease. His movements were tense and his hands were shaking as he removed his lounge pants and boxers. 

Though there were many questions burning in Peter's mind, he stayed quiet, watching as Wade went to the side of the bed. The merc shook out his arms and rolled his head on his shoulders as if readying for a fight. Rather than throwing punches, he adjusted the pillows and got in bed, positioning himself so he was propped up against the headboard with his legs bent and knees spread. Peter couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight, and had to twist his hands in the duvet to keep from touching his merc. 

Wade's hands rested on his muscular thighs, rubbing the scarred flesh as he said, "I want to...get used to this new...new body. And I want... I need to kind of feel things out for myself? But I don't want to do this alone."

Peter asked, "What do you need me to do."

"Watch," Wade said, his voice cracking. A severe blush was creeping over his skin as he added, "Maybe, uh, take your clothes off too?"

"Okay," Peter said as he removed his pajamas, doing his best to appear interested without being overly eager, not wanting to cause any more nerves. He knew that what Wade was doing was scary territory for someone who doesn't like to be stared at. This was a matter of trust. Wade trusted Peter with this intimate exploration, and he'd be damned if he was going to ruin it. 

Wade took a deep breath, continuing to rub his thighs, his hands drawing a larger circuit, reaching down the back of his legs and behind his knees. Slowly, his movements migrated to the tender flesh of his inner thighs, where his cock was already hard. But he did not touch himself there, rather his fingers traveled to the slit between his testicles. He teased at the cleft before dipping into the soft folds, his fingertips coming out glistening. 

The merc's breath was slow, occasionally stuttering as his right forefinger probed down into the wet flesh. He was shocked by just how wet he was just from the anticipation. His eyes were closed, his face screwed up in intense concentration and jaw tense, focused on the sensations. Then he found that particularly sensitive nub, and his whole body jerked, his cock leaking a thick droplet of precum. He bit his lip, brow creasing as he touched the spot again and again, making his body spasm. 

By this point, Peter was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. He wanted to replace Wade's hands with his own, to bury his face in this new, most intimate area. His cock ached to drive into the merc's shaking body, to feel the heat and wetness that made his mouth water and cock leak untouched. Wade was a vision like this, his muscles tense and rippling beneath his scarred dermis. He was like granite, beauty created by pressure and imperfections. Raw, rough, strong. 

Wade had lived a long time, had experienced many things. But getting to witness the merc in such an intimate moment of discovery---the way he touched himself, the curious motions, the almost surprised look he got when something felt particularly stimulating... It was breathtaking. 

Peter practically sobbed with relief when Wade whispered in a voice stained by pleasure, "Touch me."

Peter crawled up the bed, settling between the merc's knees. Carefully, Peter mimicked Wade's own motions. First stroking his thighs, watching Wade's face go slack even as his finger circled his clit with more pressure, his hips jerking and small gaps of pleasure escaping his lips that turned into delicious moans when Peter's fingers replaced his own. 

"Mmmm....Peter. So good, so good..." Wade gasped, his voice a raw soft whisper. 

Peter kissed Wade's inner thigh. He continued to mouth at the flesh, his fingers sliding inside the silky opening to gather more slick and returning to that sensitive spot that made Wade's hips buck and produced those glorious moans. 

"I... I want..." Wade gasped, mouth panting as he reached for Peter's hands, lifting them away so he could catch his breath.

Peter leaned up, peppering the merc's sweaty face with kisses, lips brushing skin as he whispered, "Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what to do."

Wade was having a hard time formulating sentences. So he took Peter's hand, guiding it to Peter's cock as the merc again returned to touching himself. Peter understood, stroking himself as Wade did the same, their mouths a tangle of tongues as they chased their own orgasms. Peter came first, breaking away from the kiss, eyes fighting to stay open to see the pleasure wash over Wade as he found his climax with a growling shout, cum shooting onto his belly as a burst of milky liquid spilled onto the duvet. 

Peter kissed him again, a languid brush of lips as Wade slumped boneless against the headboard, voice filled with reverence as he said, "So amazing, so beautiful. I wish you could see how beautiful you are right now."

Slowly, Wade cracked open his eyes, a dazed smile on his face. "That was...intense."

Peter made a noise between a hum and a growl as he lay down and pulled Wade against him. The merc's body was heated, his pulse slowing and breathing evening out. He clung to Peter, loving the sweet things the younger man said as he held him. The nerves and the anxiety mixed with the pleasure and feeling of being accepted and so loved, leaving Wade wrung out in a way he never felt before. 

Groggily, Wade managed to mumble, "Love you," before falling asleep.


	8. Manic Monday - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is great, except for when everything stops being great.

Monday was always Peter’s busiest day of the week. He was in the middle of his thesis work, and spent a good portion of every Monday in the laboratory at the college. Sometimes he would close himself in the spare bedroom of the apartment, which had been converted to an office/workout room, and agonize over notes and just how he would ever finish said thesis by the deadline, which was still five months away. The afternoon would be consumed by a meeting at the Daily Bugle, where he would be reminded by J. Jonah Jameson just how big of a piece of shit a portion of New York thought his alter-ego to be, followed by assignments to catch more photos of said piece of shit because they were what kept people subscribing. 

Peter hated Mondays.

This Monday, Peter woke to the sound of Wade singing “I Put A Spell on You” (the Hocus Pocus version) in the kitchen. The scent of fresh muffins and the backup chorus from another raspy voice pointed out that Wanda was there, and more than likely the Deadpool Twins had been up for at least an hour or so. Peter got out of bed and sleep walked to the kitchen, where Wade greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a travel cup of coffee with two sugars, a shot of vanilla and just the right amount of whipped cream. 

Peter looked up and smiled, and relished the sort of shy look that Wade gave him. It reminded Peter of the first time they’d spent the night together, when Wade finally removed his clothing so Peter could see his body in all its scarred glory. Wade was actually blushing a little bit, and Peter couldn’t stop smiling despite the fact that he was dreading the day ahead. 

Wanda handed him a muffin and pushed a chair out from the table with her toe. The muffin was streusel topped. Peter was pampered, and he knew it. 

After drinking his coffee and feeling slightly more alert, Peter asked, “What are you two planning today?”

“Call of Duty,” Wanda answered. “Nothing says sibling bonding like first person shooter tournaments.”

Wade stood behind Peter, rubbing his shoulders with his big, warm hands, and said, “Might head down to Agency X. Introduce Wanda to my clone and the rest of the crew.”

Peter nodded. “Awesome.”

Sometimes, Peter was jealous of the abundance of downtime Wade had between jobs. But really, he shouldn’t be. More than once--practically every week--Wade told him to quit his job at the Bugle and just focus on his thesis, that Wade had more than enough money to pay the bills and with all the work he was getting from SHIELD, those funds were not going to dry up any time soon. 

Every time, Peter told him no. There was always something about work ethic, and doing his part, and purpose. However, those reasons were becoming less and less convincing. Especially when Wade kept rubbing that spot between his shoulders that made Peter’s body turn into jelly. 

Then there was the fact that Peter couldn’t stop thinking about last night, and was in the mind set to continue Wade’s experimentation. Younger Peter Parker who had nothing on his mind but sex and shooting webs would have grabbed Wade and pulled him into the nearest private space. But Adult Peter Parker had a slightly stronger sense of obligation. Lab time was not cheap or easy to find, and he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life taking Spiderman selfies. 

But he really liked the thought of taking a Sex Day. Kind of like a sick day, but with more orgasms. 

So, after another muffin, Peter got dressed in his least ripped pair of jeans and Doctor Who t-shirt with a rainbow Dalek on the front which was topped with a plaid overshirt. He slipped into his Converse, grabbed his shoulder bag, and put on one of Wade’s hoodies to use as a jacket since the weather was supposed to be chilly. 

Wade and Wanda went down to the street to wait with Peter for a cab. Though he was probably trying to restrain himself, Wade was being exceptionally touchy-feely, always keeping some part of their bodies touching, stealing quick kisses, or a not-so-discreet hand on Peter’s butt. The cab arrived, and Wade and Wanda wished him a good day, with Wade promising Thai food for dinner. 

Peter decided that this Monday was going to be a good one. 

***

It was the longest Monday in the history of Mondays. 

There were issues at the laboratory stemming from some undergrads who had started a small chemical fire early that morning. The lab was closed off due to the cleaning crew, and the entire building smelled like burned chemicals. Thus, Peter texted Tony Stark to ask permission to use the equipment at Stark Industrial to go over his latest data. Tony wasn’t responding, which wasn’t really a surprise considering their small altercation Saturday night. Peter went to the library to work on his paper, only to find most of the computers were occupied and he had somehow managed to forget his laptop charger at home. 

Wade was his only relief from the feeling of wanting to choke random people. As soon as Peter told him the kind of day he was having, Wade started sending pictures of baby animals interspersed with ass-selfies and random texts about the snack food industry. Apparently, the Deadpools had started the morning by going to Agency X with Bob, only to be disappointed to discover that Alex Hayden was out on a job. Really, Wade was happy about this turn of events, since it was Wade who had put Hayden through a rigorous fitness routine to get rid of the excess bulk left from his monkey-treat addiction. When Peter first met Hayden, he didn’t believe that the man was Wade’s clone. But once he lost the weight, it was absolutely undeniable. 

Sandi painted Wade and Wanda’s fingernails, and they ended up going to lunch with her and Inez. 

The day didn’t get better, though. Especially once Peter got to the Bugle and saw the front page of Sunday’s paper. It was a picture of Deadpool and Spiderman sharing a mask-covered kiss surrounded by the fires left by Jack O’Lantern’s bombs. The caption read, “Lunatic Lovers Level Downtown Block”. 

Wade and Peter had a rule about newspapers: they didn’t buy them or read them. This was for their own mental health (Peter included). It was bad enough to work for his worst detractor, it was another thing entirely to actually pay to read the garbage he published. The article attached was enough to make Peter’s blood boil, and he again debated if quitting his job would be for the best. It certainly was tempting in that moment.

And then there was the problem that Wade had stopped texting. Really, it shouldn’t have bothered Peter, considering that the last text he received was Wade telling him that he and Wanda were heading back to the apartment to start their Call of Duty marathon. But every time he looked at his phone and saw a distinct lack of messages, Peter got a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. 

Peter suffered through the meeting, spending most of it writing notes back and forth to Jan Parsec. Jan was an advice columnist, and she and her wife Tara had gone out to dinner with Peter and Wade a couple times. She was silently planning a small protest because of the article featuring Deadpool and Spiderman, via her secret (successful) blog called, “Under the Tights”, which focused heavily on NYC’s superhero population. Normally, Peter would be smirking about her desire to interview the now openly out masked men, except for his message-less cell phone. 

As soon as the meeting was finished, Peter gathered his things and grabbed a taxi home. He sent Wade a text, telling him that he was on his way. Again, there was no response. Probably just dead battery, Peter imagined. Or he’s too wrapped up in the game. Wanda cut off his hands for some reason or other. Wade inspired people to be homicidal with him at times. 

Peter arrived at the apartment to find the door securely locked, which was seldom the case if Wade was there. It was so rare that Peter had to pick the lock because he’d left his keys that morning. 

Inside, everything looked normal. The breakfast dishes were done, leftover muffins sitting in a bowl on the table. Well, normal considering there was nothing normal about Wade not being home when he said he was going to be home. True, Wade could get distracted by a shiny wrapper dancing on the breeze, but if he said there would be home, he was home. Unless he got called away for a job, but even then, Wade would tell Peter what happened and where he would be. 

No. This wasn’t normal. Peter wasn’t psychic, at least not in the Xavier’s School version of psychic, but he trusted his instincts. Wade would call it feeling a great disturbance in the Force. Either way, Peter had a bad feeling about this. 

“I’m just having a shitty day,” Peter said to the empty apartment. If he thought hard enough, Peter could recall a couple times when Wade had forgotten plans and ended up snoozing in an alley. It was weird when it happened, and it had not happened in a very long time. Wade would make some excuse about chasing a purse thief and having a post-victory siesta. But that was back in the beginning of their relationship when Wade kept calling Peter “Toby Mac” and making references to their readers. 

Really, Wade had changed a lot since they went from friends to lovers to excessively more than just boyfriends. Wade didn’t argue with the voices in his head as much, except when he was agitated about something. And his memory was sharp. Wade could recall the most insignificant conversations that they had, a fact that made Peter both amazed and sad. Amazed because Wade always remembered every little compliment and smile. Sad because Peter had spent so many years treating him so badly, even if Wade claimed that all was forgotten in that department.

Peter called Wade’s cell, and felt the knot of worry grow when it went straight to voicemail again. There were plenty of real world, not death and dismemberment reasons for that to happen, like subways and the meat department at the local grocer. Peter tried to focus on those things, but he still couldn’t get past that nagging feeling of impending doom.

So he started calling those who had seen Wade that day, starting with Bob. It rang three times, and went to voicemail. Leave a message after the Hail Hydra. Peter waited for the beep, which was actually an electronic “Hail Hydra”, and left a short message for Bob to call him back. 

His next call was Agency X. Sandi answered with their customary greeting, “Hayden Cleaners, where we clean up your dirty business.”

Most people needed to know the pass-phrase to get any kind of service from Agency X, other than a really bad maid that didn’t know the first thing about cleaning bathroom showers. It was a code that changed on a regular basis, known only to people who tended to hire mercenaries and paid a retainer fee. Wade had the codes stuck on the refrigerator door with a Batman magnet. 

“Okie dokie, Loki chokie,” Peter said flatly. The codes were always something silly. 

Sandi’s voice went from chipper secretary to mercenary dispatcher. “Is this concerning wet work or espionage.”

Peter cleared his throat, and said, “I’m looking for Wade.”

“Sorry, we don’t have anyone on our roster by that…”

“This is Peter,” Peter said, frown on his face and in his voice.

“Oh!” Sandi’s voice brightened. “Wade needs to put your phone number on the approved list. That would make things much simpler.”

Peter shook his head. “Yeah, I guess he should. Anyway, is Wade still there?”

“He left after lunch,” Sandi answered. “He said he was heading home to kill innocent tweens with Wanda. She’s a peach.”

“I’m here and he’s not, and he’s not answering his cell,” Peter said, more worry in his voice than he wanted. “Bob’s not answering either.”

“Bob is still here at the office,” Sandi said, her tone a bit more serious. “Are you sure he didn’t just step out?”

Peter had to bite back a rude remark. “I know him.”

“If you want, I can track his cell phone? Wouldn’t take five minutes to pinpoint his location,” Sandi offered. 

Though it felt like something a creepy obsessive boyfriend would do, nodded then remembered he was on the phone, and said, “Yes. Track him.”

Peter liked Sandi for the most part. She was sweet and pretty, and had terrible taste in men. At least that was Peter’s opinion; he never liked Tony Masters and kind of wanted to break his skull mask on several occasions. But, considering that he and Wade had battled it out a few times, he probably had no room to talk. Tony Masters was probably a very nice man to people he actually liked and wanted to have sex with.

With a heavy sigh, Peter dropped down onto the sofa. The place didn’t even smell like Wade had been there at all, which was probably because he had cleaned that morning before he left. Wade had his own scent, something that was kind of hard to define for people who had never smelled him. And Peter had slightly elevated olfactory senses. Nothing like Logan and his perpetual sniff testing, but still. His nose knows things too, dammit.

A couple minutes later, Sandi said, “Looks like he’s in an alley on 10th Street? I’ll text you the address.”

Peter was about to say something only a very annoyed boyfriend would say when his phone beeped, alerting him to another call. He glanced at the screen, seeing Wade’s face, and let out an audible sigh of relief. To Sandi, he said, “Wade’s calling. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“It’s no bother,” she said sweetly, adding, “Thank you for choosing Hayden Cleaners.”

Peter laughed, then hit the answer button and was still laughing as he said, “You are going to laugh so hard at me when I tell you how worried I’ve been, you bastard.”

“Peter?” came Wanda’s voice. She sounded scared, which made Peter’s laughter die in his throat. 

He sat up straighter, his heart suddenly pounding. “Wanda? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

She let out a sound that was a mix of a sob and a growl, as she said, “I just woke up in an alley. I’ve been shot, and Wade… Wade’s unconscious. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know where I am. My head...everything’s spinning. I can’t fucking keep my eyes open.”

Peter’s vision was starting to blur at the edges as his pulse accelerated. “It’s okay, Wanda. Okay? I’m on my way. Just stay where you are, stay on the phone with me, okay? Wanda?”

Her voice was shaking as she said, “Okay.”

Peter kept talking to Wanda as he grabbed his Avengers communicator and sent a text to Steve with the address and what he knew of the situation. Wanda’s breathing was labored, and he was pretty sure she was hallucinating or maybe dreaming, because she kept talking to Nate. Wanda was still talking to Nate when Peter dropped down from the rooftop and landed beside her. 

Wanda’s eyes were dilated to the point only a sliver of gold bordered her irises. Her sweatshirt was riddled with holes, obviously gunshots. Wade was laying in a heap against the wall beside her, and judging from the drag pattern in the dirt, Wanda had pulled herself over to him. It was like someone had thrown Wade there. He was unconscious, naked except for his Spiderman underoos, and his chest was covered in blood from where he had been shot multiple times, though the wounds were closed and healed.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Peter asked, his voice stronger than he actually felt. For a moment, he didn't think Wanda was going to answer. Then when she did, it made Peter's skin crawl. 

“Nate...It was Nate. I saw him.”


	9. Manic Monday - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Wade compare stories, and Wade thinks he knows who took them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Discussion of kidnapping, being drugged, and forced medical procedures. The whole chapter pretty much.

A mental health day, that’s what Peter needed. Not a sex day. At least not anymore. He called Jan Parsec, informing her that he couldn’t make it to work Tuesday, using the phone in the main hall of Avengers Medical and trying his best not to sound too freaked out to avoid too many questions. Judging by the concerned tone Jan used, he wasn’t succeeding.

“Something wrong with Wade?” Jan asked. Sometimes Peter wished he wasn’t so transparent with his feelings. How he managed to maintain a secret identity for so long is a complete mystery. 

And really, Peter didn’t know how to answer that question. It was six hours since picking him up out of that dirty alley, and Wade had showed no signs of actually waking any time soon. Then there was Wanda, who had finally fallen asleep after nearly two hours of frightened rambling that made about as much sense as a mouse singing Moon River. It wasn’t just that she was saying that Nathan Summers, who was long dead in this world and recently dead in hers, was the one who had kidnapped them, shot them, and dumped them down in the street. 

Though, the general consensus was that her version of events could not be trusted, especially when she would stare at a corner of the room and claim that he was still there. Peter felt bad for her, he genuinely did. Even worse was seeing how frightened she was that Wade wasn’t waking. The only solace they could give her was placing her in a room with Wade, which is how she finally went to sleep.

Peter remained with them the entire time. While Wanda was awake, he stayed by her bed, grounding her in the present with his voice and occasionally holding her hand to keep her from staring at that empty space in the corner. It wasn’t until Wanda was asleep and Peter’s bladder was starting to hurt that he left the room.

“Peter?” Jan’s voice said, calling him back to the moment. 

Phone call, yes. That’s right. Calling in. Peter sighed and ignored the original question, which was what all healthy adults do. “I just need to take a day off. Thesis and all, you know.”

That seemed to work for Jan, or at least work well enough that she said, “Okay. Just don’t forget about this weekend.”

Peter had already forgotten. “What’s this weekend?”

“Nevermind. I’ll get Johnston on it,” she said good-naturedly. “Maybe take the rest of the week, okay? I’m sure you have some Spider Selfies you can submit to satisfy the Devil with the gray mustache.”

A half-hearted chuckle issued from Peter, and he said, “Thanks, Jan. Really.”

“Later,” she said, and hung up. 

Peter replaced the phone in the cradle, feeling more tired than he could ever remember feeling in his life, and that was saying something. He wanted to call Aunt May. Actually, he wanted to curl up into a ball and cry for a few minutes, but this was not the time. When Wade was awake and joking and home, Peter would have his break down. He would do it in the bathroom in the shower, and if anyone asked, he would swear his eyes were red because he had shampoo in his eyes. Dammit, he really wanted to cry. 

“You okay?” 

Peter’s head snapped up, not even realizing he’d been staring down at his sneakers until he heard Steve’s gentle voice beside him. Really, Peter hated the gentle voice, much preferring the commanding tone of Captain America, who was able to rally the troops and make you find reserves of strength you forgot you had. It was useful in the heat of battle, and that’s where Peter felt he was standing. 

With a heavy sigh, Peter said, “I’ll manage.” Then he turned, with every intention of walking back to the hospital room and taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable pleather chairs to resume his vigil over his sleeping significant other, who may or may not wake up. But instead, he almost collided with Clint and had the distinct feeling that he was about to be the victim of an ambush intervention. They both had that, “We’re you friends, and we just love ya to pieces” look in their eyes that made Peter want to punch somebody.

“I’m fine,” Peter said after the silence stretched a little too long and he realized he was supposed to be the one saying something. “I’m just…” He sighed heavily, gesturing with his hands as if by will or magic finger twirling he could produce words, but ended up just repeating, “I’m fine.”

“Banner got the toxicology report back,” Steve said. “Both of them were injected with a very large dose of Tabula Rasa.”

That should mean something, but Peter’s brain felt like somebody had put it in a mixing bowl and tried to make scrambled eggs. “What’s Tabula Rasa?”

“It’s a really serious tranquilizer,” Clint answered. “It was developed for deep space missions, but sometimes is used by military for certain detainees. It also has other applications, like erasing memories.”

“Fuck…” Peter sighed, his head lolling back and eyes closing against the wave of almost agony that went through him. 

Steve put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, and said, “Don’t worry, son. We’re working on this. All of our energy is going into finding out what happened.”

Though Peter knew that Steve was born in the 1920’s, it always felt weird when the man--who only knew about 30 years of actual life--called him “son”. But then again, it always came across so genuine the Peter never called him out on how annoying it was to be called “son” by someone who was only five minutes older than him. Or five years. Fuck. Whatever.

“Thanks,” Peter finally managed to say. Then he really thought about what Steve was saying, and in a more appreciative tone, said, “Really, thank you.”

With a final squeeze, Steve’s hand dropped away, and he said, “We’re a team, Peter. It’s what we do.”

Peter nodded, but couldn’t think of anything to say. No witty comeback. No snark. He just sighed, and walked back to the hospital room where Wade was still annoyingly silent and unconscious. Peter sat in the chair positioned between the two beds, scooting closer to Wade so he could hold the merc’s hand. 

The next thing Peter knew, a raspy voice was saying his name, and Peter shot to attention only to realize that it was Wanda speaking. She was sitting on the edge of Wade’s bed, her face drawn into a frown, her eyes sunken and dark. Well, darker than usual. Both of the Deadpools seemed to have excessively dark skin around their eyes, which always seemed to bring out the brilliant gold of their irises. 

Peter looked at Wade. He hadn’t moved at all, and Peter had no idea how long he’d been asleep. All he knew was that his shirt sleeve was damp from drool and his hand was nearly numb. He shook out the tingly appendage, and looked at Wanda. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“Clearer,” she answered, tapping her temple. Wanda sighed, smoothing the edge of the blanket where it had crinkled up, and said, “I don’t know… I… I’m certain that some very weird shit has transpired. Just… I don’t know how much of it actually happened and what I hallucinated.”

Peter nodded. “Do you want me to call Dr. Banner?”

“I want to talk to you,” Wanda said, staring down at Peter. It was uncanny just how similar her facial expressions were to Wade’s. If she was Wade, Peter would think that Wanda was about to share some kind of earth shattering secret. So he was silent, attentively waiting for her to continue. And when the silence stretched for more than a minute and she started to fidget with the edge of her hospital gown, Peter was starting to wonder if she needed more encouragement. 

Then she said, “I know that I saw… someone. Someone with Nathan Summer’s face.” She squinted, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth--another Wade-habit. “But… I know it wasn’t him. It wasn’t even another-him. Not like Wade is another me, you know?” 

“Shit...” came a cracked voice, and both Peter and Wanda looked at Wade. 

Wade’s eyes were closed, his face screwed up in pain. With the way his eyes were moving behind his lids, Peter knew he was dreaming. A moment later, Wade’s eyes snapped open. His first instinct was to try to get up and find cover. Instead of jumping to his feet, his arms and legs twitched and his head started spinning before he flopped against the mattress in defeat. His mind was...hazy. His vision, blurry. Mouth, dry. Shatner thoughts, initiated. Dammit, Jim.

Then he saw the fluid bag hanging above his head and the bar of lights, and a wave of fear swept through him. Wade again tried to sit up, tried to say something, but all that came out of his mouth was a thick, inarticulate sound that sounded more like a walrus mating call than anything resembling language. Then Peter was there standing over him, his hands cupping the merc’s face. Wade wanted to touch him, wanted to say how happy he was that he wasn’t alone, but all that was caked up in his throat with the rest of the English--and countless other--languages. 

Wanda appeared on the other side of the bed. She touched his shoulder. “You’re okay, bro.”

“You and Wanda were attacked,” Peter said softly. Wade smiled; he always loved Peter’s exposition. “You’re in Avengers Medical at the tower. You’re safe. Nobody’s going to hurt you. I’m right here.”

Wade looked from Peter to Wanda, then nodded, trying to figure out how to ask for water. Luckily, Peter seemed to know exactly what he needed and suddenly there was a straw at his lips. He drank greedily, choking on the third gulp and going into a coughing fit. Peter lifted him upright, holding a towel to his face to catch the water he was spitting up. Wade heaved in lungfuls of air between coughs, and found that he was leaning heavily against Peter. He loved Peter’s shoulder. So strong and there and not moving at all, like the rest of the room.

“Slower,” Peter said with a quirk of his lips, replacing the towel with the tumbler. Wade gave him a scathing look that had no weight behind it as he took the straw into his mouth. 

When he had drank enough to slake his thirst, he took a deep breath, again trying out his voice. This time, he managed to croak out the word, “Thanks.”

Peter kissed Wade’s forehead, arm securing the merc against his side. “How do you feel?”

“Like stir-fried dog shit,” Wade mumbled, his head lolling down to rest on Peter’s shoulder. “My...everything....It all hurts. My skin…”

It felt like a dart in the heart, hearing Wade sound so small. The merc would walk through a hail of bullets singing show tunes, but when his skin started to sting and burn from his regeneration going into hyperdrive, the only thing that could be done was wait it out. He was sometimes angry and bitter, but more often, he was depressed. Usually when these episodes happened, Peter would make a hot bath filled with soothing additives designed to numb the sensations. Right now, they were minus a bath.

Peter checked his hands, and said, “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” Wade answered softly. “M’cold.”

“I think I can fix that,” Peter said with a brush of lips against Wade’s temple. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Clint. A couple minutes later, Clint came into the room with a pile of warm blankets that Peter and Wanda used to cocoon the merc. 

“Thanks,” Wade said softly. He blinked slowly, then shook his head. “Something… My head…”

“You were drugged with some pretty potent stuff called Tabula Rasa,” Peter said. “Whoever did this, they didn’t want you to wake up.”

Wade looked at Wanda, trying to focus on her face. “You… You okay?”

“Better than you, sunshine,” she said playfully. “The drugs didn’t work as well on me. I don’t think they planned on a Deadpool that was from another universe.”

“Lucky.” Wade’s brow furrowed and he closed his eyes. Everything in the room was simultaneously too bright and too dark, making his brain feel like it was about to either explode or ooze out of his ears. There was just so much static in his head, and the few times that things cleared up… Well, none of it made any sense. 

Wade closed his eyes, leaning heavily against Peter. “I don’t… I just… We…”

“Shhh…” Peter nuzzled against Wade’s cheek and said, “You don’t have to talk. Just rest, okay? I’m staying right here with you.” He looked at Clint, and said, “Any chance someone could bring some food?”

“Do I look like a delivery dude?” Clint said with a laugh. Then he nodded. “I’ll send one of my flunkies to get some sandwiches or something.”

“Thanks,” Peter said. 

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, letting the warm blankets do their work while Wade continued to sip water. Slowly, his head started to clear. Or at least, everything stopped spinning. That didn’t change that things in his mind were still screwed up and confusing. Not just a little bit either. Like dingo-ate-my-baby crazy.

He looked at Wanda, then to Peter he said, “This has happened before.”

“When?” Peter asked, feeling that knot of worry starting to grow again. “Since we’ve been together?”

“No. Not… It’s been...years. But I…” He swallowed hard, his eyes staring down at the nest of blankets. “I used to wake up in weird places. A lot.” He fell silent, his face twisted by anger and confusion. “Figured it was just… I don’t know… My fucked up brain. But this… I don’t know. It… It can’t be right. Can’t be.”

Peter took a deep breath, and asked, “Did you see someone?”

Wade nodded slowly, still looking at his blanket like the answers to all his questions were woven into the fleece. 

Wanda opened her mouth, but Peter gave her a look and she stayed silent. Peter wanted to hear it from Wade first. He wanted confirmation. 

“I had to be hallucinating. The drugs…blood-loss… But…” Wade closed his eyes, taking a sharp breath through his nose. “I swear I saw Nate. He was… He… saved me? But then...” Wade looked at Peter, his eyes haunted. “He tried to kill me.”

“I saw him too,” Wanda said.

Wade looked at her. 

“But it wasn’t him,” Wanda added. “He was different… For so long, all I’ve wanted was to see him. And then he was there. He was right in front of me. But… He didn’t have his T.O. arm. His face… he was whole? Not like he was before.”

There was a look that passed over Wade’s face, the same look he got when he figured out something that was previously incomprehensible. Surprise, confusion, epiphany. His brow furrowed, and he whispered, “Oh fuck…”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Stryfe,” Wade said as he turned to Peter. “Fucking Stryfe.”

Both Wanda and Peter looked at Wade like he had grown a second head. Peter, like most people of the human species, didn’t follow the events of the Messiah War, largely because it happened in an alternate timeline that only a few privileged people knew anything about. Wade Winston Wilson, first of his name, happened to be one of them. Mainly because of the fact that his mind had endured a Rory Williams-esque fuck-over, and he had the memories of a Deadpool that died 2000 years into the future. Or maybe he ate that Deadpool’s soul. Or something. Point is, Wade knew that Nathan Askani’son Summers, aka Priscilla, had a clone. A very evil clone who never was infected with the techno-organic virus, and may have killed Apocalypse and done a few other unsavory things--Legacy Virus, anyone?

Wade explained all of this to Peter in as deep of detail as he could manage, and by the time he was finished, he was getting really fucking tired of talking, and generally felt like his entire world was slowly crumbling. 

Because Stryfe? Shit. On Nathan’s most vainglorious day, he didn’t hold a candle to the ego that was wrapped up in the body of Stryfe (also named Nathan Summers, just to confuse everyone). 

Wanda had never heard this story. In her world, Stryfe did not exist. Apocalypse had been destroyed at some point deep in the past. Nathan was not embroiled in some continuous, repetitive kill-and-resurrect dance with the ultimate mutant supremacist. Nathan had saved the future by destroying evil in the past, as was his mission. He was successful. In this world… Wanda wanted to weep for everything that this world’s Cable had failed to do. 

And Peter… Peter was scared. Not just because the idea of an ultimately powerful super mutant was in the world, but because he knew deep down that there had to be a reason he wanted to hurt Wade. Worse, there was a reason he had released him. 

“You should go back,” Wade said to Wanda. He looked at her, eyes full of sadness. “You’re in danger here. I had no idea… I just… I need you to be safe.”

“Not gonna happen,” Wanda said with a determined shake of her head. She jabbed a finger into his shoulder, and said, “I don’t run away from danger. That’s not what I do. And it’s not what you do. This guy, this Stryfe? If he’s the one who did this, then I want to help get him. I don’t want to let this rest. And I can’t just go home and pretend that everything is fine. That’s not what family does.”

Wade wanted to argue, wanted to put his foot down. But then he remembered that Wanda was him with boobs. And he knew that if the tables were turned, there was no way in hell he would leave his sister to fight something this big alone. So he nodded, and said, “Okay.”

Peter took a deep breath, and said, “We might need to talk to the X-Men.”

“We’ll talk to Logan,” Wade said.

There was a knock on the door, and Clint entered with an armload of sandwiches, trailed behind by Kate Bishop carrying a tray of drinks and a bag of chips. For a while, the world was reduced to eating and drinking, and Peter could only hope that somehow everything would be okay.

It had to be okay. 

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the last chapter I'm posting until after Thanksgiving, because American food orgies are a tradition I'm not willing to break. And (little known fact) I'm a chef, and thus I'm expected to utilize my culinary expertise to create a poultry masterpiece with a side of awesome pie (otherwise known as pumpkin cheesecake. NOM!). 
> 
> Anyway, stay tuned. There is more to come. Peace, love, and Turkey!


	10. Familiar Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda dreams about Nate, only it's not the Nate she wanted to dream of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The events in this chapter have dub-con/rape elements in a dream/nightmare format. If you do not want to read such things, I'm putting a summary at the bottom in the notes so you have the gist of whatever plot points you may have missed.

Wanda stood on top of Avengers Tower, looking out over the city. A city so familiar, yet so foreign. Everything is the same, but completely different. Different smells, different lights, different arrangement to the skyline… But the same Nathan. 

He’s standing beside her, his T.O. skin reflecting the light of the city, his face lit by the pale yellow glow of his left eye. There’s a smile, or at least his version of it, playing on his lips making the corners of his eyes crinkle as he looks at her. They used to do this some nights, go to the top of the tallest building and enjoy a view only experienced by birds and annoying billionaires with flying suits. 

The last time Wanda saw Nate, it was on top of Avengers Tower. It was a strange day, the day he died. Not strange so much as it was incredibly normal, except for the part where Nate didn’t come back. Routine mission, it was supposed to be. A garden variety villain who happened to have just the right weapon to counteract Nate’s telekinesis. One bullet through the heart. No chance of healing. No time to save him. Just one moment he was alive, the next he was gone. And all Wanda could do was watch it happen.

But he was here, and Wanda tried to force that memory out of her head. Tried to forget the way she ended the day caked in blood, waking in medical after blowing her brains out. Nate was here, even if it was just a dream. 

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” he said softly, his hand reaching out to twine his fingers with hers. The metallic skin was cool to the touch and smooth as polished stone. Wanda always loved when he touched her with his TO hand, but she craved the feel of his warm palm that came up to cup her cheek. Nate was smiling so bright when his sapphire eyes met hers. “Not as beautiful as you, though.”

“Tell me another lie,” she said, fighting back the tears. Nate always told Wanda she was beautiful, ever since they encountered each other at the One World Church. She didn’t believe him then, couldn’t fathom how someone could look at her hideous scars and see beauty. But Nathan saw people differently. Wanda especially. 

Their lips met, and her knees went weak as his massive arms enveloped her and lifted her off the ground. Wanda was tall for a woman--6’2 (188cm for our European friends)--but Nathan was a good half-foot taller, and had a way of making her feel tiny in his embrace. She loved that feeling, knowing that he could rip her to pieces and still be so perfectly gentle. Like she was made of glass. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Wanda whispered against his lips, nuzzling her nose to his. 

“You don’t have to miss me, love,” Nate said softly. “I’m right here.”

Wanda nodded, feeling the sting of tears. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

“You don’t have to save me,” he said. “I’m right here.”

Nate kissed her forehead, the bridge of her nose, the curve of her cheekbones. He trailed kisses to the juncture of her jaw, nibbling on her earlobe making her gasp and latch on to his shoulders. Meanwhile, his hands busied themselves untying the belt of her robe and rucking up the sheet-like material of her hospital gown, and finally coming to rest on her hips. She could feel the tingle of TK rippling over her skin, sparking to life nerves that scar tissue had tangled and hidden ages ago. Nate was the only one who could touch her that way. 

There had been so many dreams, so many nights when Wanda would see him in her mind. But this was the first time she could actually feel him, really feel him. It was just like he was with her, just like he really was on his knees in front of her with two metal fingers inside her slick opening, and her cock hardening in his mouth. Everything about him was warm and alive, everything she was missing for so many months. It wasn’t long before her orgasm hit and she had to brace herself on his shoulders to keep from falling. 

A moment later she was on her back on the ground, staring up at him as he braced himself above her still thrumming body. Wanda wrapped her legs around his hips, arching just right to guide him inside. She let out a moan of pure pleasure, her head falling back and eyes drifting shut as he began to thrust. Wanda dug her fingers into his shoulders, reaching up to thread her fingers through his stark white hair. She closed her fist in it, giving it a solid tug, exposing the thick cords of muscle of his neck for her mouth to nip and suck. 

With a quick motion, Nate flipped her over on her hands and knees. One hand gripped her hip, the other her shoulder as he fucked her hard and relentless. Each snap of his hips jarred her from head to toe. It was rough. It was brutal. It was exactly how she liked it, rendering her only capable of inarticulate gasps with each thrust. And she knew he was getting close by the deep, rumbling growl that vibrated the air around them. 

Nate came with a guttural moan, his body tensed as Wanda continued to stroke his cock, moving her hips to milk every bit of his orgasm until he fell forward, one arm wrapped around her waist to still her, the other bracing himself up. He was sweating, his body trembling as he panted for breath. Finally, he withdrew with a sigh, and rolled down to the ground, pulling her with him. 

“I don’t want to wake up,” Wanda said softly, her face nuzzling into his side. He was so warm and pliant, her head in the fog of afterglow. Dreams were never this good. And it was so strange that her eyes felt heavy, and her body felt like it was made of putty, like she was about to fall asleep. Maybe it was one of those Inception dreams, and she was about to go to a dream within a dream within a dream…

And maybe she was already there, because Wanda started to notice things were off. Like she was certain she was on Nate’s left side, but her face was pressed against flesh instead of metal skin. When she looked up, she could see that Nate’s hair was longer than it should be. And the scar that criss crossed his right eye was just...wrong.

Wanda got to her feet in a rush, backing away from him. She was shaking, staring down at him as he sat up, resting on his left elbow that had no trace of TO. “You...You’re not Nathan.”

“Yes, actually, I am,” he responded calmly. “I am the real Nathan Summers.”

Wanda shook her head. “No. Not my Nate. You’re Stryfe. That’s what Wade calls you.”

He nodded. “I’ve gone by many names, love.” 

She gritted her teeth and growled, “Don’t call me that.”

Stryfe got to his feet, pulling on his pants as he did. “You loved my clone very much, didn’t you? And judging from your memories, the feeling was mutual. Reliving this...moment...with you. It was quite moving for me.”

“Get out of my head,” Wanda demanded. “Stay the fuck away from me and Wade, or I swear to Bea Arthur, I will end you.”

“I don’t think you really mean that,” Stryfe said with a smirk. Wanda hated that smirk. Hated his face, because it was the same look Nathan would give her when he was particularly amused by something she did. It was a look that on Nate’s face meant affection. On Stryfe’s… It meant something very dark. 

“Let me wake up,” Wanda said, her voice darkening. 

Stryfe laughed, and Wanda wanted to plug her ears because it was Nate’s laugh. “What makes you think you’re not awake right now?”

Wanda backed towards the ledge, and said, “Guess there’s one way to find out.”

Then she was falling, plummeting through the air, heading towards the unforgiving sidewalk. The wind rushed past her face, her vision blurred by tears and air. The concrete was fast approaching, the world silenced by the roaring of her pulse as she awaited the blissful darkness of death…

***

Wanda sat up with a shout. She barely had time to take a breath before light came on. A moment later, Wade was at the edge of the bed. Wanda latched onto him. She was shaking and sweating. And she was very aware of the sticky wetness between her legs and in her lap. Thankfully that was hidden by the sheet and blanket.

“It’s okay, sis,” Wade said softly, stroking the back of her head. “Fuckin’ nightmares got me up too.”

She swallowed hard, her voice small when she asked, “What were yours about?”

“The usual,” Wade answered. “Doctors, needles, involuntary organ donations.”

Wanda breathed out, strangely relieved that the dream had been hers alone. Though it sounded like a lie to her own ears, she said, “Yeah. Same here. M-must be being in this place. Never liked medical.”

“Me neither,” Wade said as he let her go. “You wanna go get breakfast? It’s like...uh… 4 o’clock. There’s bound to be someone with donuts. I actually think there’s a bakery in the Tower.”

“Yeah. Sounds good. I just…” She squirmed a little, and said, “I really need to take a shower first. Regeneration funk, you know.”

“Go for it,” Wade said as he stood up. “I’ll break into the supply closet for something with a back to it.” 

Once Wade was out of the room, Wanda got into the small hospital style shower, turning the water all the way to hot. She scrubbed every inch of her body until her skin felt raw, then scrubbed some more. If not for the fact that she woke in her bed, Wanda would have thought that the dream was in fact real. Everything about it felt real, down to the way she quivered between her legs at the memory of Nate--Stryfe--fucking her from behind. 

Checking for bruises or any other evidence was useless due to her healing factor, and it was obvious that the only come on her body was her own. Still, it felt real. He felt real. And it was so damn good… At least up to the part where she realized it wasn’t her Nate. 

Fucking dreams… 

Peter was still sleeping when Wade and Wanda left the room. Wade left him a note telling him they were headed down to the little bakery on the first floor. The scent of the place filled Wanda’s head, and for the first time she managed to banish the dream from the forefront of her mind. 

They ordered a dozen each, both still feeling the post-regeneration hunger pangs. Wade had half jelly-filled, the rest regular glazed. Wanda opted for a bit more variety, but all with cake icing. The clerk didn’t seem to be surprised to see the two Deadpools, but then again, it was common to see gods and monsters roaming the halls of Avengers Tower. 

As they ate, Wanda and Wade fell into conversation. They talked about teleportation, the many inventive uses for a spatula, whether or not a donut could be used as a weapon, debating the amount of napkins that would be needed to mop up an entire cup of coffee, and whether or not the barista got hazard pay. Both of them were happy to have someone who literally knew how the other’s mind worked, and Wanda knew deep down that she didn’t want to go back to her own Universe. 

Really, this universe was at least exciting. Things were different. And there was...Stryfe. 

Just thinking his name made Wanda squirm a little in her seat. 

“You okay?” Wade said, noticing the odd look that passed over her face. 

Wanda swallowed her bite of donut, and said, “Can I ask you something that might dive into the realm of unpleasant memories?”

“Sure,” Wade said with a shrug. “Kinda helps to talk about the bad shit sometimes. What’s on your mind?”

“Stryfe,” Wanda said. 

Wade nodded and took a drink of his frappe. “What do you want to know? I mean… My memories are kinda weird, considering that most of them never happened. Or at least were reset.”

“Just…” She bit her lip, frowning as she poked her last cruller. She looked him in the eyes for a moment, before returning her gaze to the donut and asking, “Other than the physical appearance...How was he different from Nate?”

“He was an evil sonofabitch,” Wade answered. He picked up a Boston cream, and said, “He was more powerful than Nathan, for one. And that shit went straight to his head. Fucker beat Apocalypse where Nathan never could.” He took a bite, his staticy mind swirling with timelines and confusion. He swallowed and tapped the side of his head. “Dude could get in here. Nobody else could do that. Nobody. I can’t be mind controlled, but Stryfe… He could. He could see what I saw, and I could hear his voice in my head. He could control me no matter where I was.”

Wanda suddenly felt very cold inside. She was silent for a moment as she picked apart the cruller, intending to dip it in her coffee but never getting to that step. “Did he…” She took a deep breath before starting again. “Did you ever mistake him for Nate?”

“No,” Wade answered. “No. He was full-on crazy ruler of the world when I came into the picture. He might have looked like Cable, but he wasn’t even close. There were a couple times he forced me to…” Wade paused, swishing the whipped cream around his cup a moment. “He made me relive things. Memories. But he would rewrite them. Torture me with them.”

Wanda wanted to ask if Stryfe manipulated Wade’s dreams, but she couldn’t. She knew if she asked that question, Wade would know the reason. 

“Don’t worry,” Wade said, seeing the look on her face. “We’ll get all this shit sorted out. If Stryfe is really here, we know how to deal with him this time.” Wade shrugged, and added, “Fact is, the timeline has changed. All that stuff that happened before, it’s not part of the future now. Which means that if Stryfe exists, he’s not the same. And he saved our asses, right? So he can’t be completely evil.”

“Maybe,” Wanda said softly before stuffing half a cruller in her mouth. It was dry and sweet, and did a good job of ending the conversation. Wade had hinted at Stryfe’s malevolence the night before. Projection, she imagined. Her sleeping mind created a worst-case scenario for her to live out. Her brain was kind of a dick like that at times. 

Except this time, Wanda wasn’t on the verge of tears. She didn’t wake up wanting to cry or kill herself. She woke up covered in sweat and her own jizz, and very confused. Especially since part of her wanted to go back to sleep to see if she had the same dream again. 

Another part of her wanted to find Stryfe and rip him apart piece by piece, starting with his imposter’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Wanda has a sex dream about Nate, only it turns out that it was Stryfe. She wakes after jumping off the top of Avengers Tower, which ends the dream. Wade takes her to breakfast because he was having his own nightmares and is awake. Wanda lies about the content of the nightmare, telling Wade it was the same as his (doctors, experiments, etc). While they eat, Wanda asks Wade to tell her more about Stryfe. Wade tells her that Stryfe is the only person who could control his mind via telepathy, and that Stryfe used Wade's memories as a method of torture. Wanda questions if the dream was in fact a dream or if it was really Stryfe manipulating her unconscious mind. In the end, she is confused because she enjoyed it, but at the same time, she wants to kill Stryfe if he did in fact mess with her head.


	11. Watching Out for Wade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Deadpools and Peter discuss the situation with Coulson and Cap.

Shortly after 7am, Wade, Peter, and Wanda joined Phil Coulson and Steve Rogers in Steve’s office to exchange information. Wanda filled in the blanks where Wade had become unconscious. Thanks to Wade’s cell phone, SHIELD and the Avengers had tracked down the location where Wade and Wanda were taken. It was an abandoned clinic, recently abandoned considering the amount of blood to be found. Some of it was Wade’s. Some of it was Wanda’s. A lot of it was from other mutants. There were no bodies, no scientists or doctors. No fingerprints. It was obvious that the place was set up to be used and abandoned, but by who was a mystery. 

The only clue was Stryfe, a man who was supposed to be dead many times over. A man who should have been erased from history and existence in some distant, distorted timeline that was collapsed and rewritten when Cable and Stryfe plummeted through a time vortex on the Moon. 

Coulson hummed, looking down at his tablet before saying, “There have been reports sporadically of mutants being taken, most of whom have the same drugs in their system as found in yours. Until this time, we’ve had no leads on locations.” He gave a Phil Coulson smile, which was barely a twitch of the corner of his mouth, and said, “I know this was unpleasant, but your experience may be what we need to get to the bottom of this. The last thing we need is another Weapon Plus.”

“No argument here,” Wade said with a frown. 

Wanda asked, “What about Stryfe?”

“That is...a bit more difficult.” Coulson drummed his fingers on his knee, gathering his thoughts. “As it stands, we have no evidence to back up that Stryfe is alive at all, other than the word of two individuals who were under the influence of very powerful drugs.” He held up a hand to stave off any remarks, and continued, “That does not mean he is not present. Doesn’t mean he’s not a threat. We just don’t know what to look for.” 

Steve cleared his throat. “I know you’ve requested to speak with Logan. Right now, he’s out of the country dealing with some...uh...family issues.”

“Daken?” Wade asked.

Steve smiled, but didn’t remark, then said, “Scott Summers will be in the city in a few days, and might be more useful, considering that Stryfe is a clone of his son.”

“Fuck that,” both Wanda and Wade said in flat unison. 

“If you want to talk to him about it, go ahead,” Wade continued. “But he and I don’t exactly see eye to eye, and that has nothing to do with his annoying laser vision. Trust me when I say that if I’m involved, he doesn’t give a shit.”

“He can be somewhat difficult to deal with,” Steve said with a stifled laugh. 

By the end of their small confab, the general consensus was to be vigilant, but try to continue life as normal. Neither Wade nor Wanda were to go anywhere alone, and any suspicious activity should be reported immediately. 

As Wade and Peter were standing to leave, Steve shook Wade’s hand, and said, “Remember, the meeting is tonight.”

Wade’s brow furrowed, then his eyes brightened. “Oh. Yeah. Support group for wayward villains.”

Steve nodded. “I know this has been a rough couple days, but I still would like you to attend.”

“Ah, hell,” Wade said, lazy smirk on his lips. “This is nothing.”

Peter slipped his arm around Wade’s waist, and Wanda led the way out of the building. The ride home from the Tower was silent, except for the occasional snores from Wade. Peter could tell Wanda was exhausted, too, by the darkness around her eyes. But it was obvious she didn’t want to sleep by the startled way she sat up every time her eyes were closed for more than a few seconds. 

Peter, who was jammed between the two Deadpools, nudged Wanda with his elbow. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” she answered with a shrug. “But it’s not every day I get kidnapped. At least, not anymore. And not…”

“By a Nate lookalike?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Well, there’s that.”

Peter studied her a moment. There was something about the set of her jaw, the slight crinkle at the corner of her eye, things that on Wade’s face meant he was hiding something. Peter asked, “Did something else happen?”

“Nah,” Wanda said, looking out the window. For Peter, it might as well have been an admission, but he wasn’t going to push it. If she wanted to tell him, she would. He’d learned the hard way that pushing Wade to tell him anything was as effective as trying to smash a brick wall with a sack of cotton balls. 

They arrived back at the apartment a little before noon. Wade went into the kitchen to make some lunch while Wanda called Bob. Bob showed up a few minutes later, out of breath, his face beet red from running. He immediately went to Wanda, who hugged him around the neck and petted his sweaty hair. The two went to the corner of the living room to sit on Wade’s gigantic beanbag chair. It was actually kind of sweet the way Bob submitted to Wanda’s petting, like he was a human-shaped cat. 

After eating a quick lunch of sandwiches, Wade and Wanda both fell asleep on the couch. Their heads were resting against the back of the sofa, mouths open, snoring softly. Peter went to the kitchen to wash the few plates and clean up the breadcrumbs. Bob assisted in straightening the table. 

When he continued to hover, Peter asked, “Something on your mind?”

“Yes,” Bob said softly. He peeked into the living room, then said, “I’m worried about them.”

Peter sat in one of the kitchen chairs, sighing heavily. “So am I.”

For a while, Peter couldn’t get past the fact that Bob was an agent of Hydra. But after a while, Peter realized he was just a regular guy who happened to lack any kind of direction in his life. He needed someone to tell him what to do and think, and he looked for anyone who would do that. First, Hydra was the answer. Then he met Wade, who in so many ways abused the poor guy. That parrot suit… Now, he was the favorite minion of everyone at Agency X.

Really, Bob was a pretty okay guy. He was spineless to the point Peter wondered how he could walk upright, but he wasn’t inherently evil, he didn’t torture kittens, and he genuinely cared about Wade Wilson. Now, it was obvious he cared about Wanda, too.

“Mr. Wilson used to disappear a lot,” Bob said after a lengthy silence. He was picking at the label on his bottle of water, frowning. “He’d be in the middle of a mission, and he would vanish. Or he’d call from strange places and be angry because he couldn’t remember how he got there.” Bob’s frown deepened. “I always thought it was because of his mind, you know?”

Peter nodded. Wade had issues. It wasn’t a secret. The voices in his head, though absent more often than not, were a factor in his life. Sometimes Wade would have lengthy conversations with himself, laughing at his internal jokes and sometimes becoming violently angry. A lot of those issues seemed to smooth out just by having someone else with him, keeping him grounded in the moment. 

Of all the things that Wade struggled with, the most prominent was loneliness. Once Peter understood him, could really see just how lonely and lost the man was, Peter had direction when it came to dealing with Deadpool. Friendship came first. Peter would make sure to find Deadpool at night, ask the merc to help him patrol. Sometimes Peter would help the merc tracking a quarry, all with the goal of keeping the body count down. Amazingly, with Peter around, Deadpool wasn’t as trigger happy. 

It was hero worship, Peter discovered. Deadpool absolutely adored Spiderman and desperately wanted the webslinger’s approval. He wanted to be like Peter. In the end, that was what made Peter reveal his identity to the merc; he was uncomfortable being put on a pedestal like that. Peter was no angel; he didn’t deserve to be looked at like some kind of perfection to strive toward. 

There were setbacks and lapses. There were times when Peter almost gave up on Deadpool being anything but a mercenary. But Peter didn’t give up, and Wade kept trying. Somewhere along the way, the merc became a fixture in Peter’s life. He was someone to relax with after a rough battle, someone to joke with on a shitty day. Then out of the blue, Peter realized that his feelings for the merc strayed far out of the realm of friendship and into territory he never imagined would be occupied by Wade Wilson. 

Now, it was hard to imagine life without him. Losing Wade would feel like losing an arm or a leg; sure, Peter could go on living, but life would never be the same. This experience felt like a close brush with that terrifying reality. The fact that some faceless asshole could come in and scoop Wade up, take him away to some shithole clinic to do god only knows what to him… It made Peter furious. 

“You want to stay with us for a bit?” Peter said after a prolonged silence. “We’ll convert the office into a bedroom or something. I know that you and Wanda kind of have a thing, and I would prefer keeping her close.”

“We don’t really have a bedroom ‘thing’, Mr. Parker,” Bob said with a smile. “Although if that were to happen, I would probably be the happiest man on planet Earth.”

Peter laughed, and said, “Yeah. They kind of have that effect, don’t they?”

Bob shrugged. “Wade changed my life. Before he came along, I didn’t know what it was like to have a friend.”

“Didn’t he shoot you?” Peter said, his brow scrunched.

Bob nodded. “Yeah, but what’s a couple bullets among friends?” He laughed, absently rubbing his shoulder before adding, “Somebody’s gotta watch out for them, though. I think we do a pretty good job.”

“You are one of a kind, Bob,” Peter said, unable to keep from laughing. 

Without further conversation, Peter got up from the kitchen table and went to the living room where he scooped Wade off the couch and carried him bridal style to the bedroom. He placed him on the bed, removing the merc’s heavy boots before tucking him under the blanket. He was just about to go out to the living room to figure out how to reorganize the office when Wade grabbed Peter’s hand. 

“Stay,” he said sleepily. 

Peter only took time to kick off his tennis shoes before sliding under the covers behind his merc. Wade wiggled back against him and Peter’s arm secured him in place, his fingers idly stroking the rough, hard planes of the merc’s muscular stomach. Peter nuzzled into the nape of his neck, kissing the knob of bone. 

“I’m sorry about all this,” Wade said softly. 

“Don’t,” Peter said firmly. “You didn’t do this. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

Wade sighed. “Still. I haven’t even been home a week, and…”

“Stop.” Peter sat up, rolling Wade onto his back to look him in the eyes. “I don’t just love you when things are easy.” He kissed him, punctuating the statement before adding, “Get that through your thick skull. I love you, Wade Wilson.”

Wade nodded, trying his best to not tear up. It didn’t matter how long they were together, Wade doubted he would ever get used to being loved by Peter Parker. Really, he didn’t want to get used to it. That would mean that it had become common and expected. He might not appreciate the sweet smiles and subtle gestures. There was nothing, not one thing, common about being in love with someone like Peter. 

Then Peter was kissing him, and all of his thoughts dissolved into a blissful haze. There was nothing better at calming the static in Wade’s mind than the slow brush of lips and sweep of tongue. Everything felt light and good because Peter was there, touching him, worshiping him like he was the worthy one. It never made sense. It would never make sense. But Wade wasn’t going to complain, although he almost did when Peter got up to close the bedroom door all the way.

Any protest vanished when Peter took off his clothes. Wade did the same, and soon they were skin to skin and everything in the world felt better. Peter straddled him, rubbing Wade’s broad chest, trailing kisses down the merc’s neck, nipping at his collar bone. Wade’s broad hands kneaded Peter’s ass. 

“We need to be quiet,” Peter whispered. “Don’t wanna disturb our guests.”

Wade hummed. “Could be a challenge.”

Peter smirked. “Maybe I should just let you sleep.”

Wade pooched out his lip at that concept, then bit his arm to stifle a moan when Peter gripped his cock. Peter’s hand moved slow, his thumb stroking over the head then brushing over the Wade’s clit on the down. 

“You were so amazing the other night,” Peter whispered into Wade’s ear, making the merc shiver. “So goddamn beautiful. I haven’t been able to get that out of my mind.” 

“Kinky little spider,” he breathed. Wade’s hands tightened on Peter’s shoulders, focusing very hard on not making a sound. And for Wade, that was a challenge even when there wasn’t a tight hand stroking his cock. It became even more of a challenge when Peter’s hand was replaced by his mouth. Wade had to grab a pillow to keep silent. It felt so good, Wade was shaking. Then Peter shifted above him, and Wade realized that Peter had a bottle of lube in his hand. 

“No way I’ll stay quiet if you fuck me,” Wade said almost desperately. 

Peter grinned. “I know, baby. That’s why you’re gonna fuck me.”

Wade whimpered. He gripped Peter’s cock, and the younger man’s face went slack as he slowly worked himself open in time with Wade’s stroking. Once he was stretched and ready, Peter slicked up Wade’s cock, and Wade had to think of Hulk in a bikini to keep from making a sound when guided him inside. 

Keeping silent made everything feel that much more intense. Every motion was accompanied by soft gasps and hisses, mostly quieted by breathy kisses and lips bitten to the point of bleeding. It felt like something teenagers would do in fear of waking disapproving parents rather than two adults in their own bedroom. 

And it was absolute torment having Peter on top like this. Just watching the way his perfect body moved, the way he arched his back, the way he clenched around Wade… It was almost too much to take. It was too much to ask him to be quiet when faced with the blissed out look in Peter’s eyes, the heat and tightness, the sensations that made everything in his body tingle and beg to release. Though he fought it, Wade could hear his breathing getting louder, a voice carrying the edge. 

Peter was getting close too, though he was managing to keep the volume down. He was shaking, little tremors going through his thighs as Wade stroked his aching cock. Wade’s thrusts became erratic, and he bit Peter’s shoulder to stifle the moan that accompanied his orgasm. Peter was a second behind him, splattering Wade’s stomach in white. 

After a quick wipe down with Peter’s dirty t-shirt, they nestled back under the covers. When they were just about to drift off to sleep, Wade’s cell phone chimed. Peter grabbed it, and he snorted a laugh when Wade showed him the message. 

Minion: I give it an 8.3. Love, Wanda. PS: Your bed squeaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to get the next chapter up. Life has been...hectic? Annoying. I ended up having to move two days after Thanksgiving, and that was slightly unpleasant. But oh well. I'm in a nice comfy spot, I finally got my computer unpacked, and the story rolls on. :)


	12. Support Groups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade goes to his first ex-supervillain support group, and Peter figures out why Tony is such a dick.

Leaving Bob to work on re-arranging the apartment, Peter, Wade, and Wanda headed back to Avengers Tower for Wade’s meeting. Peter planned to spend an hour or so in Bruce’s laboratory to at least get a start on his thesis work, and Wanda agreed to sit in on the meeting just to keep an eye on Wade. There would be plenty others in the meeting room, some of whom were standing outside the doors when the trio arrived. 

Eddie Brock was one of them, and Peter cringed a little. Though in recent years, Eddie wasn’t Peter’s arch-nemesis, it was hard to erase memories of the symbiote that more than once touched Peter in all the wrong ways. Wade knew Eddie from their work together with the Thunderbolts, and greeted each other with a grunt of recognition. 

Really, Wade had worked with most of the people present, some for the good (like Venom, ugh), and some for the not-so-good (Tony Masters). Masters was hovering in the doorway holding a cup of coffee with a cookie in his hand. Without the mask, he actually looked almost boyish rather than the go-to guy for mercenary training. Considering that the year before, Wade and Peter had spent Christmas at Agency X with Tony, Sandi, and the rest of them--(and had a damn good time)--, Peter couldn’t really make noise about Wade’s associates. 

To Wanda, Masters said, “You must be the sister I’ve been hearing so much about.” He kissed Wanda’s knuckles, and said, “Sandi hasn’t stopped talking about how funny you are. And she certainly wasn’t joking when she said you were better looking than Wade.”

Wanda snorted. “I definitely have a better rack.”

“I won the dick contest, though,” Wade said, and both he and Wanda snickered like five year olds. 

Masters looked at Peter, and asked, “How the hell do you put up with two of them?”

Peter shrugged. “Peanut butter and a love of the unique?”

Both Wanda and Wade smooched Peter on the cheek, and Peter told Wade, “I’ll be out here when you’re finished, okay?”

“See you soon, sweetums,” Wade said with a soft kiss and a solid slap to Peter’s ass. 

Peter winced and glared at him. 

Wade leaned close and whispered so only Peter could hear, “Little sore are we?”

Peter continued to glare. 

“Don’t worry, baby boy.” Wade’s lips brushed his earlobe as he said, “Dr. Deadpool will kiss it later, make it all better.”

Peter’s entire head was probably beet red, but he didn’t have time to reply or exact vengeance because suddenly the SHIELD therapist was at the door announcing it was time to get started. Wade kissed him again, looped his arm with Wanda’s, and disappeared into the room. 

After a few moments of fretting about letting Wade out of his sight, Peter headed to the elevators and found his way up to Banner’s lab. Bruce was sitting at the desk staring at his computer screen as if it had caused him personal offense. Peter was almost nervous to break his concentration. 

Luckily, Bruce looked up as Peter came through the door and his smile eased Peter’s fear of an encounter with the Hulk. 

“Hey,” Bruce said as he stood and stretched. “I almost forgot you were coming by.”

“I can come back later if you want,” Peter said gesturing towards the door. 

“Nah.” Bruce waved him towards the computer terminals. “I read over some of your data. Sounds very promising.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s an excuse to upgrade my equipment.”

“Good a reason as any,” Bruce said with a smirk. 

The two fell into a comfortable silence. Bruce continued to work on his project while Peter poured over his data. All was going well and peaceful, until Tony made an unexpected appearance. He walked into the laboratory with a sack of take out food. The moment he noticed Peter, the smile fell off his face. 

“Didn’t realize you had company,” Tony said with a frown. He plopped the food down on Bruce’s desk. “Guess this means your freakshow is hiding somewhere.”

“Not hiding,” Peter said, keeping his eyes on his work. “He’s here for a meeting.”

Tony nodded. “Right. Right. I keep forgetting about Steve’s pet project to fix his pet project.”

“Tony,” Bruce said with warning in his voice. “Not the time.”

“So when exactly is the fucking time?” Tony snapped back. He angrily opened a sandwich, sending bits of deli meat and vegetable flying as he practically shouted, “Bucky fuckin Barnes is back. Fucker immediately tries to kill Steve. Tries. To. Kill. Him. And what does that dumb fossil do? Of course he leaves me like yesterdays socks, a nice big fuck you to Tony. Still in my goddamn tower, still… Fuck everyone.”

Peter and Bruce both looked perplexed. Peter was the one dumb enough to say, “But it’s his best friend? He’s the only guy alive from when--”

“Fuck Bucky Barnes,” Tony growled throwing down his sandwich, which exploded into a deli nightmare on Bruce’s desk. Then he balled up his fists and shouted, “And fuck Steve-fucking-Rogers. I’m so done with his hair and his chin and that saccharine goodie goodie homespun whatever… I’m done. With everything. Everyone. Even you,” he added, pointing at Bruce. Then he jabbed a finger in Peter’s direction. “You too. Done. I’m going back to fucking Malibu. Tell Fury to fuck himself too.”

Then Tony stormed out of the laboratory and Bruce grabbed the takeout sack to retrieve his vegetable-only sandwich. 

“Uh…” Peter said, looking from Bruce to the door. “That… That was weird.”

“Tony isn’t good at break ups,” Bruce said as he calmly opened a packet of sriracha. “Especially when there wasn’t a relationship to begin with. Sort of unresolved, unrequited...I don’t know. He’s an infant. Just ignore him. He’ll sober up and realize he’s an asshole.”

“What if he takes the suit and just goes?”

Bruce shook his head. “Can’t. He installed a breathalyzer. And if you couldn’t smell the bourbon, you need your Spidey Senses checked out.”

Peter hummed a note. “Kind of makes sense.”

“What?” Bruce asked around a bite. 

“The way he and Steve are at each other’s throats,” Peter said with a sigh. “It’s like they’re having a frigging civil war.”

Bruce set aside his sandwich, taking off his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. “It’s getting bad. You haven’t been around as much the last couple months, but ever since Bucky was brought to the Tower, it has been a daily test of my patience. And Steve, bless his stupid heart, has no clue why Tony is so pissed. I feel like I’m in high school. And I really hated high school Peter.”

Peter snorted, and asked, “So do I need to give Steve a note that says, Do you like Tony? Check yes or no?”

“That kind of sophomoric solution may be what is required.” Bruce sighed. “As I’ve told Tony, Steve feels a sense of duty and obligation when it comes to Barnes. The guy was put through so much hell, he needs a familiar face.”

“And Steve pretty much throws everything into a project,” Peter said with a sigh. 

“Exactly,” Bruce said. “Seriously. Fucking high school. They are genuinely testing the limits of my self control. I need a goddamn support group.”

Peter frowned. “Maybe I could…”

“No. Please. Don’t get involved.” Bruce laughed. “No, you actually aggravate the situation.”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “How the hell do I...?”

“You’re happy,” Bruce answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “You and Wade, strange as your relationship may seem on the outside, you two are happy together. I’m not a fan of Deadpool, never have been. We’ve fought more than we’ve ever been friends, but it is obvious that he cares about you. Enough that he’s downstairs in a support group he no doubt thinks is a stupid waste of time because he wants to make you happy. It’s adorable in a three-legged-blind-kitten kind of way.”

There was a moment when Peter had to debate whether that was a compliment or an insult, because frankly, three-legged-blind-kittens were very adorable. He chose to ignore it, and say, “Wade has changed. A lot.”

“Yeah, in more than just the kill count.” Bruce scrunched his brow, and asked, “What’s the story behind his anatomical changes?”

Peter frowned. “How did…?”

“We did a full body scan on him yesterday,” Bruce answered. “And because we’ve had the joy of piecing him together before, I know for a fact that he never had intersex features. And considering that Wanda has the same features, I--”

“I don’t feel comfortable talking about this,” Peter said firmly. 

Bruce shrugged. “Just scientific curiosity.”

“Then ask them,” Peter answered. “If he wants to talk to you about it, he will. If he doesn’t, it goes under the heading of nobody’s business.”

“Okay,” Bruce said with a nod. “Sorry. I guess that was a little out of line.”

“But you are right about one thing,” Peter said, a smile starting to curl his lips. “We really are happy together.”

Bruce smiled as he picked up his sandwich. “Good.”

***

The meeting ended up lasting almost two hours. Peter was seated on the floor against the wall opposite the door playing a match of Words With Friends against Aunt May. She was thoroughly kicking his ass too, which she kept reminding him every time she put up another word. He was convinced that she was part android at times. 

When the doors opened, Peter could see that everyone had the same sort of dazed look on their faces. Some looked as if they had been crying. Wade looked stoic, his mouth in a thin line and eyes downcast. Wanda walked beside him, holding his arm, giving him an encouraging smile. Peter immediately wrapped him in a tight hug. 

“You okay?” Peter asked. Wade just sighed heavily, like he was completely drained. So Peter kissed him on the neck, and said, “Let’s go home.”

Wade didn’t have much to say for the rest of the evening. When he saw the newly remodeled bedroom/office, he only nodded and gave a soft, “Thanks,” to Bob. He hardly ate anything at supper, and shortly after the dishes were finished, he opted to go to bed instead of joining in on a Mario Kart tournament. 

Peter started to follow him, and Wade stopped him, saying, “I just need a little alone-time, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter said, kissing his cheek. Wade went into the bedroom, and Peter stood outside the door for a moment.

Then Wanda was tugging at his shirt sleeve, towing him over to the couch and putting a controller in his hand. The first couple rounds he failed miserably, his mind on the haunted look on Wade’s face and wondering what happened during the meeting that left everyone there look like they had seen a ghost.

Wanda (Donkey Kong) rammed Peter (Yoshi) off the rainbow path, and said, “Pay attention.”

Peter huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Wade’s okay,” Wanda said, not taking her eyes off the screen. She was kind of cut throat at video games, just like Wade. She launched a turtle shell at Bob (Toad).

Peter threw out a banana, and asked, “What happened?”

“Oh, you know, the typical,” Wanda said. She won the third race in a row, and Bob was grumbling about switching to Wario. She picked the next course, and said, “I’ve been through what he’s going through. Facing your demons. Facing yourself. It’s not easy.”

“Damn,” Peter said, glancing at the door. “You sure he’s okay?”

She nodded. “Now pay attention, webhead. Or I’m gonna fling you into the ocean on principle.”

They played Mario Kart for a couple hours, ended up having a couple beers, and then Wanda and Bob headed to bed. Bob had brought over an extra thick air mattress with a memory foam topper for the office. According to Wanda, it was the most comfortable bed she’d ever laid on. Even Peter had to admit it was pretty comfortable. They left the door open, and Peter glanced in to see Wanda sitting up against the wall with Bob’s head in her lap, stroking his hair like a cat while she read Wade’s ancient copy of The Art of War. 

He turned to the bedroom door, giving a soft knock before opening. Wade was sitting at the end of the bed in the dark, elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging down. Peter sat beside him, leaning into him a little, and relaxed when Wade reached over to place a hand on Peter’s knee. 

For a moment, Peter thought Wade was going to say something. He took a deep breath, his body tensing a moment, then closed his mouth as he shook his head. Peter laced his fingers into Wade’s hand, and kissed his shoulder. 

Wade smiled, a barely there expression that was hard to see in the dark. He cupped Peter’s cheek in his calloused hand. Again he seemed like he was going to say something, but instead he placed a gentle kiss on Peter’s forehead and got into bed towing Peter behind him.


	13. Bed Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Wanda both have difficult nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Nightmares and internalized victim blaming ahead. Not so much after the break.

Wanda found herself standing in the living room of her and Nate’s apartment. She hadn’t been there since he died, and now she was standing behind the couch with her hands kneading the thick slabs of muscle of Nate’s broad shoulders. He was reading something, like he was always reading something. He never stopped reading, if not letters from dignitaries it was a newspaper or book or encyclopaedia. She was trying to get his attention, tickling along the sensitive line where his TO skin connected to organic flesh.

After the third try, he turned in his seat, fixing her with a glare that only served to make her smile. A moment later, Nate was smiling too. Then Wanda was straddling his lap, their mouths locked in sensual battle that naturally led to clothes vanishing and hands roaming.

The world shifted, and they were on a beach. Wanda recognized the surroundings as a place they bodyslid to during the early days of Providence. That day, Nate had been particularly stressed by the negativity coming his direction, and Wanda grabbed his arm and took him away. For a moment, he was angry about it. Furious, really.

“Just shut up, Nate,” Wanda snapped at him as her hand cupped his groin through his pants. She could feel him twitch, making a smirk curl her lips. While she worked his pants open, she practically growled, “We’ve been dancing around each other for fucking weeks. Every fucking day, it feels like we’re either going to fuck or fight. Personally, I would find option number one preferable to number two--even if I kind of like throwing your giant ass around the mat. And it seems like you are of the same mindset, judging from Nate Junior’s current state.”

Nate was panting, and his voice was tense. “Do you ever shut up?”

Wanda dropped to her knees and demonstrated that, yes, in fact, she could shut up. Nate was thick, stretching her jaw and filling her mouth with the salty flavor of flesh and tang of metal. The TO felt strange on her tongue, almost like sucking on a penny that happened to have a pulse. Then he grabbed her head with both hands, fingers tangling with the blond wig she wore as he began to fuck into her mouth.

And Wanda threw everything she had into that particular blow job, using every trick she knew from experience both giving and receiving. Considering this was Nate--mutant messiah, mercenary, frienemy--she knew this was a one time thing. He would come, have a moment of clarity, and then probably avoid her for the rest of existence. If that was to be the fate of this encounter, then he would spend the rest of his existence comparing everyone’s mouth to hers.

That wasn’t the fate of that encounter, though. They spent almost three days locked away in Wanda’s apartment on Providence, taking breaks for food and sleep--and for Nate to send annoyed replies to Irene’s texts about the demands of a leader. It was the craziest, kinkiest marathon of sex and debauchery Wanda had ever experienced.

Things weren’t perfect, but they were close enough as far as Wanda was concerned. Had they never been more than just fuck-friends, she would have been satisfied. But they were much more. So much more. What started with bitter rivalry eventually turned into true tenderness. To love. They had passion and friendship. Years of it.

She wanted to hold on to that moment, but dreams are too fluid to grasp. The world shifted and she was laying in the alleyway with Wade on the ground beside her, mostly dead. She was writhing in pain, and the man who had shot her was kneeling at her side with a cell phone in his hand, dialing Peter’s number.

“Nate?” she said, staring at him. But she knew it wasn’t Nate. At least, now she knew it wasn’t him. “Why did you do this?”

“It was the only way to save you and myself,” Stryfe answered. Then he held the phone up to her ear and said, “Now tell Peter where you are so I know you’ll be safe when I’m gone.”

Though she hated it, Wanda begged, “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”

Stryfe smiled, and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll see you in your dreams.”

Wanda’s eyes snapped open a scream at the back of her throat that she couldn’t bring out. She choked on it, and it turned into bitter sobs that she tried to muffle into her pillow. More than anything in the universe, right now she wanted Nathan. When she would have nightmares, he would wrap his arms around her and hold her until the fear and panic passed. His voice was so soothing, his presence so imposing that nothing could frighten her when he was there.

But Nathan was gone. Dead. Buried and cold, never to come back.

And then there was the imposter. Stryfe, who popped into her head to taint her memory of Nate. Part of her felt like she had somehow betrayed Nathan because of Stryfe’s psychological invasion. How could she not tell the difference? How could she not know that it was an imposter with his face?

She wanted to tell someone, but it was too embarrassing. _Aren’t I strong? Aren’t I immortal? I’ve been through worse things than a fucked up sex dream with a lunatic. I’m tougher than this. It shouldn’t bother me. It_ doesn’t _bother me. I’ll get over it. I just have to stop thinking about...Nate._

“I can’t even enjoy the memories,” Wanda mumbled bitterly as the tears again flooded her eyes.

Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, and Bob’s soft voice say, “Miss Summers? Are you okay?”

“No,” Wanda said softly. She squeezed her pillow tighter, hating herself more now that Bob was aware of her.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Do you want me to get Mr. Wilson?” Bob asked as he sat up.

“No,” she whimpered.

What she wanted was Nate. What she wanted was someone to fend off the nightmares and horrors that surrounded her mind in the dark. What she needed was to feel protected and loved in the way that Nate could just by being nearby.

But in that moment, she decided she would take what she could get. Wanda reached behind her and found Bob’s hand, and in a broken voice said, “Will you… hold me? Just… Just until I fall asleep.”

Bob complied, moving behind her but keeping a good buffer between their bodies. He didn’t want to over step. While he had developed quite a crush on Lady Deadpool, he was not the type to impose unless strictly instructed to do so. Their entire relationship--if you want to call it that--was based on orders. Which, honestly, Bob loved because he knew exactly what was expected of him. But being asked to “hold” Wanda? He felt a little out of his depth.

For a while, it was awkward. Bob was nervous, and his arm was like cardboard. Then Wanda rolled over to face him, though her eyes were still tightly shut. She snuggled her head under his chin, her arms folded against her chest between them. Bob allowed his arm to curl a little tighter, let his neck relax enough that his chin rested against her forehead.

They remained still for a long time. Bob was almost afraid to move, really. Afraid he would do something he was not supposed to do. And really, he felt sad for Wanda. She’d stayed with him several nights, and every night she woke with nightmares or crying. He didn’t ask questions about why she was sad, but considering she always sobbed the same name, he knew it was because of Nathan Summers.

Bob had been Wade’s friend back when Wade had gone through losing Nate. It wasn’t at all like this, at least not that Bob knew. Wade threw himself into his work, taking every job possible. He would show up bloodied with his suit shredded, and Bob would feel bad for him because Wade was trying to die. It got worse before it got better, but Bob was always there. Even at the cost of his own personal health and well-being. He had to wonder if that’s why Wade threw him with Wanda this time, because Bob knew what to expect.

“Thank you,” Wanda said after a while. She had cried enough that Bob’s t-shirt had a sizeable wet spot in the front. Bob was scrawny, really. Shorter than her by a couple inches, but he was a grounding presence, reminding her that here and now, there was no Stryfe. She could hear Peter walking around in the apartment, and knew Wade was somewhere nearby. She didn’t have to be afraid. And that allowed her to finally go back to sleep.

***

Be it the curiosity about Wade’s silence or the fact that he was still a little sore, Peter was having a hard time staying asleep. Despite the fact that many assumed that Peter was the bottom in their relationship--a fact that Peter questioned frequently but was always met with awkward coughing--, it was a rare thing for him. Not that it wasn’t enjoyable; he just preferred to be on the other end of things. The whole silent-sex thing had been on impulse, and he only had himself to blame for the soreness. He was always careful with Wade’s body, but his own he sometimes neglected--a trait he shared with his boyfriend.

Around 4am, Peter got up to use the bathroom and took his phone with him. He ended up sitting on the toilet for much longer than necessary, owing to reading a couple news articles, checking email, and ending up on one of Wade’s “secret” blogs where he reshares thousands of fluffy puppy videos. It has over a thousand followers.

By the time he finally got up, his leg was half asleep and he needed to charge his battery. He washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and walked back in the bedroom to find Wade sitting on the edge of the bed. The early morning light filtering through the gap in the curtains made his skin look like pale marble, and he sat so still it reminded Peter of those idealized sculptures from ancient Greece. Wade would roll his eyes if Peter told him these things, but Peter knew that the compliments stuck with his merc.

Peter plugged in his phone and left it on the dresser, then sat beside Wade, kissing his cheek before saying, “Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” Wade said, his voice sleep slurred and gravelly. He was quiet for a moment, then he asked, “Have you ever…” He sighed, biting his lip. “Nah…”

“Ask me,” Peter said. “Let me know what you’re thinking.”

Wade laid back on the bed, his hands crossed and resting on his stomach. Peter was worried he was going to go quiet again and not speak, but Wade was always so talkative in the morning that he was bound to open up. And he did.

“You ever find it easier to talk about bad things?” Wade said. “I mean, like… I don’t know. Bad shit about yourself? Like I don’t have a problem telling the whole fucking world what kind of a fucked up mess I am. I mean I’m basically bat-shit crazy with some serious PTSD and anger issues. Everyone knows I’m ugly as fuck. I hallucinate and forget things. And I have literally snapped off part of my arm to stab someone.”

Peter knew Wade’s tendency to focus on his bad qualities. His self-deprecating ways were something Peter had worked hard to end. When Wade would start talking bad about himself, Peter was quick to stop him. And really, Peter felt guilty for all the times that he called Wade a lunatic. Things like that made Peter wonder why Wade could love someone like him at all.

“Is that what they had you talk about in group?” Peter asked.

“No.” Wade huffed a laugh. “No, actually they wanted us to talk about the good things about ourselves.” He stared at the ceiling with a confused look. “I mean, it makes no sense. We’re all a bunch of assholes. We’ve probably got a combined kill count higher than the population of some countries. And we’re all sitting there trying to make lists of our ‘positive’ traits and shit… And…” He sighed heavily. “I… I really couldn’t think of anything. Fuck, nobody could think of anything that didn’t involve fast and effective ways to kill large groups of people without being seen or heard. But we all had to give an answer.”

Peter could only imagine the amount of scoffing that happened in that room full of mercenaries, assassins, and spies. Peter asked, “Did you come up with anything?”

“Yeah.” Wade frowned and plucked at his t-shirt. “But it was stupid.”

“Tell me,” Peter said as he lay on his side beside Wade, head propped on his arm.

“My vocabulary.” Wade flickered a smile, and said, “I mean, I’m the Merc with a Mouth after all. I guess I wish there was something else? Being talkative isn’t exactly something to be proud of, especially when most think I’m an annoying fuck.” He frowned, and after a moment added, “It seems like something really stupid to say.”

“It wasn’t a stupid answer, Wade.” Peter put a hand over Wade’s, and said, “Your vocabulary is something you should be proud of---not just because you know a lot of words and use them at great length, but because your vocabulary extends into so many languages. I mean, I speak a little bit of Spanish--enough to order beer and tacos and ask where’s the bathroom. You can speak Swahili, Bengali, Sioux, three dialects of Chinese, Taushiro, Numi, basically anything that exists in Europe, Adangbe, Massai, and countless others like you were native. You’ve probably forgotten more languages than most people will ever know exist. You can communicate with anyone, and that has been invaluable so many times when we were on patrol together. It is something that should make you proud. ”

Wade was silent for a moment, then said, “Really?”

Peter nodded.

“I guess… Guess I didn’t think of it that way.” Wade rolled towards Peter, putting an arm around the younger man’s waist. “Still, it’s not easy to think about the good things. It makes me feel… I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t think I should feel good about myself after all the bad shit I’ve done.”

In the dim light, Peter could see the way Wade’s eyes were glistening. Peter scooted closer, pulling Wade tight to his chest. He said, “You need to see the good in you, Wade. You have to see it, because I can see it so clearly. And I hate that so many people in your life have made you think you are worthless. Because you’re not.” Peter stroked up and down Wade’s spine, and added, “I wish I was more like you sometimes, with the way you can see the good in people.”

Wade huffed a laugh. “You don’t have to make shit up, baby boy.”

“Not making it up.” Peter kissed Wade’s forehead. “I mean, we have a Hydra agent in our spare room. Sure, he joined for the healthcare plan, but still. And our Christmas card list consists of mercenaries, money launderers, crazy blind ladies, and the living incarnation of Apocalypse.”

“Evan’s a good kid,” Wade mumbled.

“Yeah. And he’s a good kid who’s alive because of you seeing the good where everyone else just saw En Sabah Nur.” Peter sighed, and said, “My point is, you see good in people that I would just see as criminals. And really, that is something that you’ve showed me I was lacking.”

“Hmmm…”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Wade snickered, and said, “You’re not just saying all this to get in my pants, are you?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Wade, I…”

“I mean, my body _is_ a wonderland.”

“Wade…”

“Takes more than sweet talk to get into my Cave of Wonders.”

Peter rolled on top of Wade, and said, “You are impossible.”

Wade grinned. “I’m a genie in a bottle, baby. You gotta rub me the right way, or you’ll never see Paradise by the dashboard lights.”

Peter shook his head. “I think I need coffee.”

He got off the bed, and Wade whined, “My loneliness is killing me!”

“No!” Peter snapped from the door.

“But I must confess, I still believe.”

 **  
** “No Britany!” Peter said as he headed to the kitchen, and Wade dissolved into a fit of laughter. It was music to Peter’s ears.


	14. Wine and Knitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Wanda have their knitting lesson, and Peter has a realization.

The living room of May Parker’s house was a cozy room, and felt exceptionally cozy when her weekly knitting group got together. It was a social group, normally consisting of May and three other widows from the neighborhood. They spent their time complaining about the idiots in charge of the city, comparing stories on how to fix household things, snickering about the silly things their kids and grandkids post on Facebook, and mostly getting a good buzz before noon on a couple bottles of wine, all while furiously knitting. 

Lately, they were working on hats and scarves to donate to a local children’s home. Most of their products went to some sort of charity, be it for kids or the homeless. It gave them something to do while doing something good at the same time. Plus, the wine. Really, after the first couple hours, it was all about the wine and less about the project. 

Wade and Wanda were not aware of the wine part of the knitting circle until Peter had the cabby stop by the store on the way to Aunt May’s. He chose a bottle of Moscatel and Cabernet Sauvignon, and both the Deadpools gave him a curious look when he got back in the cab. 

“Are we knitting or turning into lushes?” Wanda asked with a laugh. 

Peter just smiled and said, “Trust me on this.”

Wade leaned against Peter, smushing him up against the door. “You know, you didn’t have to come with us. I’m pretty sure that Wanda and I could handle whatever the world throws our way at an old lady convention.”

Part of Peter wanted to remind Wade that the two of them had been kidnapped and dissected while walking together, but he didn’t. Truth was, Wade was right. Before, neither Wade nor Wanda was on high alert. Though they both laughed and joked, appearing calm to someone who wasn’t intimately familiar with the habits of a Deadpool, Peter could tell that their eyes were always scanning, their ears slightly pricked. It was the kind of wary alertness that occasionally caused his Spidey Senses to tingle, because at any given moment both were liable to spring into action. 

“There’s a couple things Aunt May wanted me to fix at the house,” Peter said, knowing that Wade could read him just as easily. “Don’t want a loose step to doom my aunt to a hip replacement.”

“She’s very spry, Peter,” Wade said with a grin. 

Peter giggled, thinking about the side of Aunt May that Wade was about to meet. “Oh, you have no idea.”

When the cab arrived, Peter could see two familiar cars on the street and noticed a moving truck parked in the drive of the next house. The place had been on the market for over a year, and Peter had to wonder who the new neighbors were. At one point, Wade had brought up the idea of maybe buying it, and while Peter secretly loved the idea, at the time he wasn’t sure if he was ready to sign official mortgage-type paperwork with Wade. Oddly, upon seeing someone else moving in, he realized that he wanted to now. 

What that indicated was somewhat confusing for Peter, because he was thinking about legally binding, permanent contracts with Wade Wilson. He told the merc every day that he loved him, and there was no doubt in his mind that Wade felt the same way. And it wasn’t just words, it was the actions behind the statements. A million “I love you’s” meant nothing without the action backing it up. There was care and consideration, support and friendship. Consistency. 

Peter’s mind was suddenly considering things like who’s last name would they use? Would they hyphenate? Would they adopt? Marriage. Peter was thinking about marriage. And if that wasn’t the strangest rabbit trail to go down between the cab door and the front door, he didn’t know what was, because he was standing on the top step looking at Wade like he was seeing the stars for the first time. Wade was smiling, saying something to someone, and Peter was in the middle of some kind of epiphany. 

“...like some lovestruck teenager,” Aunt May’s voice said, filtering through the haze. Peter looked at her like he was surprised she was standing there. May grinned, and said, “Well, look who decided to join the rest of the Earthlings.”

Peter blushed and let May crush him in a hug, before he said, “Sorry. I was miles away there.”

“More like over the moon.” May released him, and said, “I was just complimenting your handsome boyfriend and his sweet sister on their excellent taste in wine.”

Wade grinned, and said, “That was actually Peter’s idea, Miss May.”

“Oh, hush,” May said with a poke to his chest. “Steal credit like a good boy, and get your butt inside.”

Wanda grinned, and said, “I seriously love you, Miss May.”

“If you love me now, just wait until after a couple glasses of Nadine’s cousin’s friend’s…” May waved her hand, trying to conjure the word, but gave up and said, “Whatever it is, it’s red. Come on. It’s time to knit.”

Inside, May introduced Wade and Wanda to the other knitters. Nadine Frazier (two houses down and across the street), Edna Jameson (no relation to J. Jonah), and Doreen Brown (house behind Aunt May, very nice cat) were excited to meet the newcomers. Wade was kind of shy about saying hi, which is just his nature with new people and no mask to hide himself. Wanda was all smiles as she shook hands and hugged everyone. Then there was a glass in everyone’s hand, and May was pouring Nadine’s cousin’s friend’s zinfandel. 

Peter declined, holding up his laptop. “I’m going to work on my thesis.”

“Sweetie Petey, still a brain,” Edna said with a laugh. 

Wade kissed his cheek, and whispered, “What the hell is going on?”

“Knitting day,” Peter said with a grin and a peck on his lips. 

The minor PDA was greeted with a wolf whistle from both Nadine and Doreen. Wade blushed. Wanda snickered. May told everyone to shut up and take their seats. 

Edna motioned for Wade to sit beside her. Wanda took the seat next to Aunt May. For a while, the turned almost business-like in favor of showing the two newbies the basics of casting on their first rows and walking them through the different methods of holding the yarn. They were both using the largest needles in their collection, making a simple scarf that was 10 stitches wide using a chunky gray yarn with little flecks of yellow and red. 

Once Wade and Wanda were working on their project, a look of stern concentration on their faces, the other ladies went back to their chatting. Peter let it all turn into background noise as he worked. He couldn’t help but smile at the occasional quip from Wade or Wanda. 

Peter noticed that Wanda had been quiet during the morning, and (like Wade) looked like she hadn’t slept much. Bob was being extra special attentive with her, too. The minion was good at anticipating her needs before she had to ask, and with the way Wanda was looking at him, he had to wonder what exactly transpired in the night. Wanda even asked Bob to come with them to May’s, but Bob had some work to do at Agency X. He left once breakfast was finished, and Wanda gave him an extra hug before he walked out the door. 

As a testament to just how talented the Deadpools were with their hands, after an hour or so, they were both knitting and purling like they were born doing it. They drank several glasses of wine, getting a kick out of the ladies who were fairly sloshed by that point and abandoning their knitting in favor of petting Wade’s so muscular arms (Nadine and Doreen), and giving Wanda a shoulder massage for the ages (Edna). May kept the glasses full, telling stories about her adventures with Wade last Christmas when he took her shopping. 

That had been an interesting day, no doubt. Especially when Peter had to come down to the police station and bail them out for disorderly conduct. Peter was furious at the time and spent the entire ride home lecturing Wade and May about their behavior, but when met with their snickering and faux innocent looks, Peter gave up. It was actually a fairly amusing tale of fighting social injustice with plastic candy canes, after which May and Wade were wrapped around each other’s pinkies, and Peter knew that he would never know peace again. 

One thing Peter was certain of, May would go into joyous orbit having Wade as her son(nephew)-in-law. Peter could easily imagine her standing in a small room soothing Wade’s nerves and fixing his tie (or maybe lacing up a dress?), before their small, intimate ceremony with a few close friends. Wanda would probably be Wade’s best man. Maybe Bob. Or hell, why have traditional anything? They would probably dress as characters from The Princess Bride and use Star Wars themed vows, and…

“He’s doing it again,” May said with a giggle. 

Peter realized that he was staring at Wade, who was currently two feet into his scarf and grinning at him like the cat who got the cream. There was nothing else to do but giggle right along with everyone else, because he had no idea how long he had spaced out. 

Then he heard Nadine say, “Oh my, May. You were right. He is a gorgeous hunk of man.”

Wanda snickered, “Checking out the new neighbor?”

May nodded. “Absolutely. He’s gorgeous. Name’s Armando Dos Veces and is built like a brick wall.”

“I love it when you’re buzzed,” Wade said with a laugh.

“This isn’t buzzed, honey,” May said with a wave of her hand. She laughed, and said, “I’m pretty much drunk, sweetheart.” Then she scrunched her brow at him. “How are you not a little sloshed?”

“High tolerance,” Wade answered. 

Wanda clinked glasses with Wade, and said, “To exceptionally crafted DNA.”

“You really should see this man,” Nadine said, waving Doreen over. “No one should be in that good of shape at his age.”

May nodded. “I’m aware. I think I’m going to bake some cookies or something.”

“Could bring him a bottle of wine,” Peter suggested with a grin. 

“Not my babies,” May said, glaring at him. 

Despite the distractions here and there, Peter managed to make some progress on his thesis. Wanda completed her scarf, and Wade had his project neatly wrapped around the needles to finish at home. Wade, Wanda, and Peter each took on the duty of walking one of their elders home. 

May told Wade and Wanda they were welcome to come every Wednesday, if they wanted. She also promised to come by for breakfast Sunday before hugging everyone goodbye. Wade told her he expected a full report on her progress with Armando Dos Dreamy Eyes, which earned him a smack on the bottom as she shooed them out the door. 

“Your aunt is more fun than a sack full of puppies!” Wanda said as they got in the cab. She sat sideways, putting her legs across Wade and Peter’s laps, leaning against the door. “Seriously, though. I’m really glad we did this today. I needed this.”

Wade and Wanda fell into conversation about knitting, the complexities of purling, and how they were both grateful for their high tolerance for alcohol (healing factors) because those old ladies could really put away the wine. Meanwhile, Peter found himself thinking about the future again, wondering if it really was the time to move on to a more permanent situation in their relationship. What would Wade say?

With everything that was going on, Peter knew that it wasn’t the right time. Maybe once the situation with Stryfe was resolved. Or maybe when he was done with his thesis. 

Or maybe when he got the courage to go ahead and ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May and Wade's adventures in Christmas shopping will be posted Christmas week. :)


	15. The Wolvie at the Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan comes to the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied mentions of rape towards the middle.

Thursday started with a bang. Well, a bang on the front door of the apartment, and when Peter stumbled sleepily to the peep-hole, he was a little shocked to see the burly, furry man standing on the other side.

He opened the door with a yawn, and said, “Logan?”

“Morning, sunshine,” he said as he brushed past Peter into the apartment.

Peter squinted at him as he shut the door. “Come on in. Make yourself at home.”

“Kind of the plan, at least until I have a chance to talk to Wade,” Logan said as he sat on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He pulled a silver case out of his coat pocket, and withdrew a cigar.

“No!” Peter snapped. “You are not going to stink up my apartment.”

“I’m just chewing it,” Logan said innocently. “Calm down, webhead.”

Peter sat in the chair, still trying to wake up. It was just after 6am, and he had only been asleep for a couple hours. After knitting, they went out for dinner, then stopped at a game store to pick up a new multiplayer, and wound up playing through the first three acts of Diablo III before finally calling it a night (morning). Wade, for all his energy, was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and Peter was quick to follow.

This time, Peter was the one having fucked up dreams. Nightmares sort of came with the territory when you were a superhero. There was always a close brush with death, always that one person you couldn’t reach in time. For years, it was Gwen that Peter was constantly trying to save and always failing, always being forced to see her die over and over again. But those dreams hadn’t happened in a very long time.

No, the nightmare dujour was being forced to watch as Stryfe tortured Wade. It was too vivid, seeing Wade’s skin peeled away and flung to the ground or forced into Wade’s mouth. Peter tried so hard to get to him, but no matter what he couldn’t stop it from happening, couldn’t silence the screaming, couldn’t do anything but watch him come back together only to be shredded again.

Really, Peter was happy that Logan had pounded on the door.

“You okay, kid?” Logan said, removing the cigar from his lips. He gave a quick sniff, and said, “I know you’re stressed. You can talk about it, if you want.”

Peter shook his head. “It’s just nightmares.”

“Just nightmares can be a real bitch at times.” Logan put his feet back on the floor, leaning forward. “What kind of nightmares? Normal nightmares or something else?”

“Something else,” Peter sighed. “It’s this...situation.”

Logan nodded. “Want to tell me the situation?”

“It’s probably better if you hear it from Wade.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck, all his muscles feeling too tense.

“Then get him up,” Logan said sternly.

Peter was about to get up, but the office door opened and Wanda came out in a pair of Wade’s Spongebob pajama pants and one of Bob’s Hydra shirts. A big smile spread her face as she gasped, “Logan!”

Logan was on his feet, and Peter could see the claws moving under his skin as Wanda basically tackled him in a hug. She gave his hair a pat, and said, “Oh my goodness, I wasn’t expecting to wake up and hear Wolvie’s voice!”

“Peter!” Logan growled looking at him with a mix of terror and fury. He grabbed Wanda by the shoulders, pushing her back to arms length, taking in the details. Like the boobs. And the scent. His brows came together. “Jesus, Wade. What the fuck happened to you?”

Wanda laughed. “Oh, my god! You are just as surly and grumpy as ever. I just wanna fluff your furious face.”

Logan took a step back. He looked at Peter, communicating a level of distress that Peter picked up with his Spidey Senses. “What happened? Who did this?” He gave another sniff as his claws erupted from his fist and grabbed Wanda’s shoulder. “You’re not Wade!”

“Logan! No!” Peter shouted as he grabbed Logan’s hand, stilling him using all his super strength. “That’s Wanda! Don’t kill my houseguest.”

Logan looked Wanda over, and then looked back at Peter. “The fuck?”

“Wanda is Wade’s counterpart from another universe,” Peter explained.

Logan eyed Wanda a moment, before saying, “You sure about that? Where’s Wade?”

“Right here, big boy,” Wade said from the bedroom door. Logan turned towards him, and Wade gave a quick wave, seeming to not care that he was only wearing a pair of Spiderman briefs. “Please, don’t kill my sisterpool. She helped me during a mission in 722, and is here for some downtime. Which hasn’t exactly been downtime, which is why we needed to talk to you.”

Wanda was still grinning, despite the claws pointed at her face. “This reminds me of that one time that my Logan and I went after this chameleon guy. Chopped my head right off. It was exciting.”

Logan’s claws retracted, and he put his cigar back in his mouth. He sniffed the air again, and gave Wade a strange look. After a tense moment, he said, “Okay. I need coffee and a lot of explanations.”

After Wade put on some clothes and Peter made coffee, the four of them gathered around the dining table to discuss the situation with Stryfe. Logan was quiet, listening closely. His face was like stone, giving none of his thoughts away as Wanda and Wade relayed the tale of their kidnapping and subsequent escape, all seemingly at the hands of the same person. It didn’t get less confusing the more Peter heard the story.

Once they were finished, Logan sat back, thoughtfully chewing on his cigar for a moment. He frowned, then cleared his throat. “Okay, so… I need to know one more thing. Did you…” He cleared his throat again, obviously not wanting to ask. “Did your um… _biology_ change before or after your kidnapping?”

“Before,” Wade answered. Then asked, “How did…?”

“I can smell you, Wade.” Logan said it like it kind of turned his stomach. “You… Both of you… There’s a scent on you that typically means...um…” He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable to say the word, “You’re ovulating.”

Wade’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh?”

Wanda chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

“What does that even mean?” Wade said, his brow furrowed.

“Oh, Jesus, Wade…” Logan groaned, covering his eyes with his cigar hand.

Wanda gave him a look, and for a few seconds they just stared at each other until Wade seemed to come to some realization. He looked at Peter with an expression that was almost pure fear. Wade’s hand, which had been resting idly on the table now had a white knuckled grip on the edge of the table.

Peter put his hand on Wade’s arm, and Wade relaxed a little. At least, the table was out of danger.

Once the somewhat awkward moment passed, Logan said, “The thing of it is, I wouldn’t be surprised if something had happened to you when you were taken.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“Because of what I found on my last mission,” Logan said, his eternal frown deepening. “Daken was targeted by a group wanting to take samples of his DNA. He managed to escape the facility. Contacted me, told me what he saw. We put together a team and took out the facility, but what we found…” He shook his head. “It was disturbing.”

Peter’s skin started to crawl. “What…?”

“Mutants, lots of them. Only they weren’t born that way. They all were recipients of organ transfers, all from the same source,” Logan said, pausing for a moment before looking at Wade. “You.”

“Me.” Wade stared at him, so many things battling on his face. His knee was starting to bounce under the table. After a few deep breaths, he asked, “What happened to them?”

“We brought them back with us,” Logan said. “Got them all settled in to a place on the school grounds. There wasn’t many survivors.”

“Why…” Wade said, his face twisting in what Peter could only describe as pain.

Logan shook his head. “Seems that you’re still their favorite to fuck with, bub. And honestly, hearing that Stryfe might be involved makes sense. The way he liked to mess with you...”

“That timeline was supposed to be gone,” Wade said, an edge of terror to his words. “That… That Stryfe was supposed to be dead. Supposed to die with Nate. No legacy virus, no nightmare future.”

“We’re in unknown territory now,” Logan said, frowning. “This version of Stryfe… We really don’t know what his plans are, or what he’s here to do. The things that drove him to action before are different. The circumstances of his existence are different.” He glanced at Wanda, then said, “We don’t know if it’s the same Stryfe, either.”

Wade’s frown matched Logan’s. “You mean from another timeline? Another universe?”

“Possibly,” Logan said. “Fact is, your fate has always been closely linked to Nate Summers and Stryfe. You always seem to be there when they are in play, be it for good, bad, or ugly.”

Wade shook his head and got up from the table. For a moment he just stood there, his breath turning shallow before he walked to the bedroom and slammed the door. Logan frowned down at his hands, and said, “You probably oughta talk to him, webhead. This isn’t easy territory for him. Don’t want him doing something stupid like blowing his brains out.”

Peter was already on his way, leaving Wanda and Logan alone at the table. The two were silent for a minute, Logan fiddling with his lighter, flicking it open and closed. Then he finally stuck the cigar back in his mouth and asked, “You got a fire escape here?”

Wanda nodded. “Follow me.”

They walked through the apartment to the office, where Bob was still sound asleep, curled up in Wanda’s spot and snuggled under the blankets. Logan eyed him for a moment, then followed Wanda out the window where he immediately lit his cigar and took a few puffs.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Logan said after he felt a little more relaxed.

Wanda smiled. “Technically, you just did.”

Logan gave her a look he normally reserved for annoying students (and Wade Wilson). “There’s an odd scent on you. At first I thought it was because you’re from another universe, but after this conversation… Have you seen Stryfe since the day you were taken?”

A chill swept through her that had nothing to do with the cold morning air. Wanda hugged herself and said, “Just dreams. Very vivid dreams.”

“How vivid?” Logan asked, tilting his head. “Vivid enough that you’re not sure if it was a dream or not? Cuz Stryfe…”

“It had to be a dream,” Wanda said softly. “Because if it was anything else…” She cleared her throat, trembling from the effort to keep her teeth from chattering. “Why do you ask?”

“Because scents linger, even when you try to scrub them off,” Logan said, his voice soft. Sympathetic. While there was a man in Wanda’s bed, Logan knew it wasn’t his scent he smelled.

Wanda’s jaw tensed as she said, “Dreams or not, he’s been getting into my head. And I’m going to end him for what he’s done.”

“You won’t be fighting alone,” Logan said.

Wanda nodded. “Still. I’m going to kill him.”

***

When Peter entered the bedroom, Wade was sitting in the corner between the bed and the wall, knees pulled up to his chest and his head buried in the nest of his arms. He was talking, his voice muffled by his arms, but Peter knew that he was talking to the voices. “You guys can’t leave me alone, either can you. They show up and you show up. Fuck all of you. Just leave me alone, goddammit. I don’t need you. Just shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up!”

Peter walked to him, kneeling down in front of Wade and putting a hand on his trembling shoulder. “Don’t listen to them, Wade.”

With a heavy sigh, Wade lifted his head. Peter had never seen the merc look so haunted. His eyes were filled with so much fear. He shook his head and looked towards the wall opposite him. “I can’t handle this, Peter. I can’t. It’s too much. Too much all at once. It’s making my head feel like… My body… Everything… It’s like I’m going to fly apart.”

Peter looped his arms around Wade, using just enough strength. “Then let me hold you together.”

“You’re gonna get sick of my shit someday,” Wade said, again hiding his face in his arms.

“Not happening,” Peter said, squeezing him a little tighter.

Wade’s voice was broken as he said, “I’m so damn tired, Peter.”

Peter knew he wasn’t referring to their lack of sleep during the night.

“I want some quiet, you know? Just… Peace.” Wade heaved a sob, shoulders shaking. “There’s gotta be peace somewhere. That’s all I want. Peace. Balance.”

The only time Peter had seen Wade have this sort of reaction was when he was having nightmares. For a while, they seemed to be a constant thing. At least four nights a week, Wade would wake up shouting or screaming, sometimes throwing punches and talking loudly to the voices in his head. It was a trying time, and Wade almost left for fear of hurting Peter in his sleep. But Peter didn’t give up, and spent some time researching PTSD, and eventually they developed methods of stopping the nightmares before they happened.

One thing that Peter knew was how important it was to get Wade to stop thinking about whatever it was that was troubling him. And there was one method that always seemed to work…

“I thought love was only true in fairy tales,” Peter sang softly. He hated the sound of his singing voice. Always off-key and kind of squeaky, but he kept going. “Meant for someone else, but not for me. Love was out to get me, that’s the way it seemed. Disappointment haunted all my dreams…”

Wade peeked one eye up at him.

“And then I saw your face,” Peter continued enthusiastically. “Now I’m a believer. Not a trace of doubt in my mind.” Then Peter belted out, “I’m in love!”

Wade came in, his voice muffled through his arms. “Ooooooooh I’m a believer, I couldn’t leave ya if I tried.” Wade continued humming, a smile on his face when he looked up again. Then he chuckled, and said, “We should watch Shrek sometime. It’s fun to watch Ogres fall in love.”

Peter kissed Wade’s forearm. “Anytime you want.”

“You know you’re my Fiona, right?” Wade said, a little bit of the usual sparkle in his eyes.

Peter snorted a laugh. “Why am I the princess?”

“Because you are the one no one suspects, with your sweet boyish face and tight ass.” Wade was grinning as he said, “I swear it, baby boy, if I didn’t know what kind of a kinky little spider you were first hand, I would suspect you to be a saint. But then again, you are living proof that knees are good for more than praying…”

 **  
** Wade was cut off by a kiss that successfully turned his ramble into a series of inarticulate sounds that were soon replaced by the soft smacking of lips. Peter knew that there were some rough days ahead, but he didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about Weapon X, or Stryfe, or people stealing organs from Wade to make mutants. The only thing he wanted was what Wade wanted: Peace.


	16. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade have a night to themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took longer than normal to get another chapter up. This week was... well... Christmas. And there are people everywhere and I haven't had a minute to myself. And this chapter... I needed to be alone to write. LOL

Usually a couple times a week, when there wasn’t a catastrophe or a mission keeping them apart, Wade and Peter liked to go out for their version of Date Night. It was never anything fancy, by any means. They had a couple favorite restaurants where Wade felt comfortable going without something covering his face, and there was a nearby theater that showed classic films. Date Night was an excuse to try to feel like a normal couple.

This night, Wade felt anything but normal as he and Peter found their usual table in the corner. What was even stranger was the fact that Logan was the one who insisted that they go out. Apparently while Wade was having a small meltdown, Logan and Wanda had a long talk. What the subject was, they didn’t share. But the end result was Logan taking Wanda to Avengers Tower in the afternoon, and telling Peter and Wade to do whatever they would normally do before going on a mission.

In the morning, the five of them (including Bob) were going to the Jean Grey School to meet with Hank McCoy and the mutant survivors from the detention camp. Wade originally wanted to leave immediately, but Logan insisted that they wait. Most of them were in pretty bad health, and McCoy was busily examining them to figure out how best to get them back on the road to recovery. Or at least, get them to a state of stability.

Having Date Night was Peter’s idea. Where usually it was very relaxing and enjoyable, Wade was on pins and needles. He still felt like he was about to dissolve and the voices wouldn’t stop talking over each other. Luckily, Peter was aware of his turmoil, and knew exactly how to draw him back in the moment. Sometimes it was just a touch. Sometimes just a word whispered into his ear. Othertimes he would resort to more stimulating means.

Being in the dark corner of the restaurant, with only a dim faux-tiffany lamp above their heads, these moments could be hidden by shadows and savored by both. They sat close, Wade slouching to rest his head on Peter’s shoulder, Peter’s arm wrapped around him. They tried to talk about normal things, like tactical plans for the next time they played Call of Duty, or Peter’s thesis work, or funny things they found on the internet. Some of it was repetition, all carefully skirting the topic of Stryfe, kidnappings, memory loss, panic attacks, forced mutations, test subjects, and the future.

Peter kind of wanted to think about the future, too. He wanted to think about those things that went through his head while at Aunt May’s. A happy future for him and Wade. That’s what he wanted more than anything else. A happy future. The idea that Stryfe or some ghosts from the past could ruin that future made Peter want to throw things. Instead, he held Wade a little tighter, kissed a little longer, and spoke a little sweeter. They would get through this.

By the time dinner was finished, and they had nestled into the back row of the theater, both Peter and Wade were feeling a little more relaxed. It was a little easier to laugh at the antics of Abbott and Costello as they chased were chased by the Wolfman. Peter found himself getting distracted by Wade licking popcorn butter off his fingers.

Then Wade, the master of the dark art of seduction that he is, leaned to Peter and whispered, “I really like how silky this corset feels against my skin.”

Peter nearly choked on his soda, his eyes going wide in the dim light of the theater as he stared at Wade’s Cheshire Cat grin. Peter squinted at him. He was wearing his typical street clothes: bulky hoodie, loose fitting jeans, black combat boots. In the restaurant, Peter had felt something under the hoodie, but he figured it was a shoulder holster. But now that he had the image in his head of silk and leather, the idea of sitting through the last half of Abbott and Costello Meet Dracula felt like a life sentence.

Especially when Wade reached between Peter’s legs, giving his cock a teasing squeeze that made a soft moan escape the younger man’s lips, followed by a cough when the person in front of them turned gave them a dirty look. Most of the theater was occupied by a much older crowd, and Peter didn’t want to end up kicked out by a bunch of geriatrics because of Wade getting handsy. But then Wade’s hands were folded innocently in his lap, and Peter started calmly reciting the elements of the Periodic Table to get his cock to behave.

Despite the urge, Peter and Wade took their time walking back to the apartment. They stopped for frozen yogurt, paused to listen to a neighborhood kid jamming out on the guitar with his buddy on the bongos. They ended up dancing to their cover of “Hallelujah” in the style of Jeff Buckley, which resulted in some stares from passers by which they barely registered, because now Peter knew what he was touching through Wade’s shirt, and Wade was kissing him in that spot below his ear that made him break out in goosebumps.

Okay, so they took their time up to that point. They tossed a few bucks into the kid’s guitar case and went home at a quick step. Once they were inside the apartment, Peter did a quick scan of the place, and found that it was still empty. Wade headed into the bathroom to “freshen up”, something that Peter didn’t know how to translate. So he went into the bedroom, lit a few candles, and sent Logan a text inquiring about his and Wanda’s whereabouts.

The reply was a selfie from Wanda. In the background was Logan and Thor, who seemed to be having a chugging contest. Peter had fallen into that trap before. Thor might be a god, but Logan could down the booze like no other. A few seconds later, Logan responded with, _“Staying @ Tower. See you in the AM.”_

With the candles lit, Peter adjusted the covers on the bed and took off his shirt. He wanted Wade to be the master of ceremonies tonight, though Peter’s mind was fixated on imagining Wade splayed out on the bed. He thought back to Wade’s first night home, when they discovered the differences below the belt. Peter wondered if Wade was as wet and slick now as he had been then. Wondered how much he was anticipating this.

Peter had to bite back his enthusiasm for that thought, because he had no idea if Wade even wanted that kind of sex. Just in case, Peter set the condoms on the bedside table. He kicked off his tennis shoes and removed the rest of his clothes. He sat on the side of the bed fidgeting like he hadn’t fidgeted since he lost his virginity. Whatever happened, he wanted everything to be good for Wade.

Then Wade came into the candlelit bedroom, and Peter’s mouth went dry. Though Wade didn’t really believe him, Peter loved his scars. He loved the texture of Wade’s rough skin, and loved when the merc would dress in soft, feminine things. The contrast was breathtaking.

Wade wasn’t just wearing the corset. He had put on black thigh highs that were held in place by red satin ribbons, and fingerless gloves that went up to his elbows. Peter found his eyes drifting from the silver clasps of the bodice, following the leather lines of the boning, down to the black satin and red lace panties, to his muscular legs that were shaped for speed and agility, and practically made for the black heels on Wade’s feet. That he could walk so gracefully in such footwear was amazing enough, but that Wade was so un-self conscious with the way his hips swayed as he walked to the bed… Peter couldn’t stop smiling.

Wade stood in front of him, his hands coming to rest on Peter’s shoulders while Peter’s hands came up to caress Wade’s thighs. He could feel the slight tremble in Wade’s body, a combination of anticipation and anxiety. Peter knew he wanted to feed one and remove the other.

“You are amazing,” Peter said reverently, one hand roaming along the edge of the stockings, sliding under the ribbons at the back, the other sliding up to Wade’s waist. He gripped Wade’s hip, using just enough strength to anchor the merc. Another gentle reminder of Peter’s strength that made Wade’s breath hitch.

“Just to be clear,” Wade said, his voice rough and deep as he tilted Peter’s chin up. “I’m losing my v-card tonight.”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle, his eyes sparkling as he pulled Wade down into his lap and caught his lips in a searing kiss. Wade rocked against him, while Peter’s hands continued to roam over the smooth fabric, mapping through touch the clasps and closures. Having Wade like this felt like a present wrapped in pretty bows; so pleasing to the eyes, but also an obstruction to what he desired underneath.

But this present had a mind of his own. Wade pushed Peter back on the bed, his gloved hands trailing down Peter’s chest, making sure to hit all the ticklish places first with his fingertips and then his tongue. Then Wade’s mouth closed around Peter’s cock, and Peter felt almost dizzy from the the perfection of it. Wade knew what he was doing in every aspect and had absolutely no gag reflex. There was no doubt that the merc with the mouth was the best at what he did, and it was so nice. Peter had to keep a tight rein on his self-control to keep from getting lost in the sensations. Thankfully, Wade seemed to be on the same page and stopped short of entering the realm of refractory periods.

Wade sat up on his knees, a smug smile on his face as Peter panted to catch his breath. A smug smile that vanished with a surprised yelp when Peter grabbed his hips and put Wade on his back. Peter crawled over him, capturing the mec’s mouth while his right hand reached down and snapped the left string of the satin and lace panties.

“Kinky little spider,” Wade gasped against Peter’s lips as his cock was freed. Peter gave a few strokes before his hand dipped lower, sliding into the slit between Wade’s plump testicles to find his clit. The first touch made Wade buck.

“That...I like that,” Wade said, his voice quavering. Peter repeated the motion, making Wade gasp and his legs shake. Then Wade moved his hips, and Peter’s finger slid inside. Wade bit his lip at the new feeling, breath catching as Peter’s finger moved deeper and started to slowly stroke him while keeping light pressure on his clit.

Wade was not feeling the nerves he had felt before. Instead, all he felt was pleasure that had his toes curling in his heels and legs shaking. His eyes drifted shut, and he floated on the sensations until he felt something warm and wet teasing at his opening and his eyes snapped open to see Peter’s face buried between his legs.

“I’m gonna…” Wade gasped, and Peter stopped, moving up to kiss the merc. Peter’s chin was wet, and there was a tangy flavor on his tongue that filled Wade’s senses. Between kisses, he whispered, “Need more…”

Peter took a deep breath, the sound of Wade’s voice going straight to his dick. He grabbed a condom off the bedside table, hands fumbling a little with the wrapper. Some things, Peter decided, were not like riding a bike. He was thankful when Wade took over, giving Peter’s cock a couple strokes before deftly sliding the condom on in one smooth motion. Wade lay back on the bed, his legs spread and inviting.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” Wade said with a smirk.

Shaking his head, Peter moved into the V of Wade’s legs as he slicked up his cock. He lifted Wade’s leg, lining himself up and starting to nudge against Wade’s opening. He pushed in, and was amazed at how tight it felt, and he had to smile when Wade let out a shaking breath, and said, “Okay, be gentle. Gentle is good.”

Peter moved in slow, shallow thrusts, letting Wade get used to the intrusion, all while stroking Wade’s cock in the same manner. The focus required to not drive into him was monumental, because this was Wade Wilson, who liked rough sex and hard fucking. Now, Wade was shivering under Peter’s ministrations, the look on his face somewhere between agony and ecstasy.

“Goddamn,” was all Wade could manage between gasps and soft moans. Peter lifted Wade’s legs up to wrap around his waist as he moved down to kiss the merc, capturing those beautiful sounds with his lips. Sounds that amplified with the change of angle. Peter’s cock slid against Wade’s clit with each thrust. The combination had Wade convinced he was going to fly apart again, but this time he didn’t care if it happened because Peter was starting to shake too.

Then Wade was coming, his cock spurting between their bodies as a rush of liquid spilled around Peter’s cock. Peter was close behind, the feeling of Wade clenching around him too much. Wade held onto Peter, his grip on Peter’s shoulders almost bruising as he slowly came down. When he finally opened his eyes, Peter was smiling at him.

“Hi,” Peter said softly.

Wade grinned, licking his lips. “I… That was… I…”

Peter silenced him with a soft kiss. “You are perfect. So perfect.” He kissed Wade again, keeping the merc from disagreeing, parting only to say, “Beautiful,” and, “I love you.”

They curled up together under the covers, keeping to Peter’s side of the bed to avoid the wetness of Wade’s. For a long time, they were silent, and Wade thought Peter had fallen asleep. He brushed an errant hair from Peter’s forehead and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. Wade studied Peter’s face, wanting to burn the image into his eyes so that he would never forget this perfect man who loved him.

Even in the afterglow, Wade knew that Hell was on the horizon. Stryfe was out there. Weapon X was still active. Wade was still their puppet. And he knew, deep down, there was no keeping the ones he loved out of the crossfire. Peter wasn’t going to stay out of the fight. Wanda wasn’t going to go home. So Wade wanted to hold on to this moment, something to bury deep into his heart in a place that couldn’t be erased by time or Tabula Rasa. A balm against the torments he saw coming in the future.

“Wade?” came Peter’s voice, his thumb brushing away a tear that Wade didn’t realize was falling down the bridge of his nose. Wade hugged him tighter, and Peter gripped Wade’s shoulder and said, “We’re gonna make it through this.”

 **  
**Wade nodded, wiping his eyes on the pillow before kissing Peter, trying to pretend he didn’t kiss like it would be the last time they would ever touch. Not wanting to think that they might be making love for the last time. Not wanting to fall asleep, as if that would keep the dawn from coming.


	17. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade is the comforting one, sometimes.

Once again, Peter’s dreams were nightmares that startled him awake at least every thirty minutes. Always torment. Always watching Wade be cut apart. Stryfe. The final nightmare came as the sun was filling the bedroom window, and Peter woke to realize that Wade wasn’t beside him. His spot was cool, and Peter started to panic. He fought against the sheet and blanket to get out of the bed, and throwing open the door to find Wade sitting in the chair cross legged, his cell phone up to his ear, giving him a confused look.

Peter let out a shaking breath and slumped against the door frame, barely hearing Wade’s voice over his thundering heart as he said, “I’ll see you later, Ev. We’ll talk about your grades, okay?”

A moment later, Wade had Peter wrapped in his big arms, and Peter melted against him. He was shaking, and he knew Wade could feel it from the way he smoothed his hands up and down Peter’s back. All the panic was leaving him with the soft touch, and as it departed, Peter found himself feeling cold. Then he realized he was still naked and he generally felt like an idiot.

He laughed, and said, “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“Don’t apologize, baby boy,” Wade said softly as he kissed Peter’s forehead. “Wanna take a shower? Warm you up, make you feel human again?”

Peter nodded and let out a squeak when Wade lifted him off the floor and carried him to the bathroom. It felt silly to be so comforted by Wade kissing him between grabbing towels and turning on the water. Not that Wade never took care of Peter, it just was rare that he _had_ to.

“You want to tell me about it?” Wade asked as he massaged shampoo into Peter’s mess of unruly hair.

“Not really,” Peter said softly. He still felt cold, despite the warm water beating down on his chest and Wade’s heat at his back. He kept his eyes open, not wanting to see the images that had startled him awake. He didn’t want to see the agony on Wade’s face or the amusement of Stryfe. He didn’t want to think about blood and gore and horrors.

Wade pulled him tight against his chest, resting his chin on Peter’s shoulder as he said, “You’re with me, now, okay?”

Peter nodded, and hadn’t realized that he was about to start crying. He’d been fighting it since the night Wade was kidnapped. And dammit, he didn’t want to fall apart now. They were going to the Jean Grey School. They were going to get to the bottom of what has been happening to Wade and how he’s connected to the mutants Logan and Daken found. They were going to stop Stryfe from doing whatever it was he was doing. This wasn’t the time to fall apart.

But when Wade turned him around, Peter couldn’t hide the redness of his eyes or the way he was shaking. He felt foolish. Childish. But the only thing he wanted was to be held in Wade’s muscular arms, and Wade was happy to comply. Peter wondered sometimes how many of the other Avengers ever showed their emotions. He wondered if he was the only one who broke down like this. They all seemed so confident, self-reliant. He couldn’t imagine Steve Rogers crying because of nightmares.

“We all have weaknesses, Peter,” Wade’s voice whispered in his ear, and Peter realized he’d been speaking out loud. “You’ve been fighting battles since you were a kid, and had to do it alone. They’ve all been through the same, though, ya know? I mean, Natasha and the Red Room? Clint and Trick Shot and all that crazy shit? Banner being the loneliest green man on Earth. Tony with his dead family and robotic drinking habits. And Cap went through fuckin’ World War II.” Wade paused to turn the heat up a little on the water before adding, “I know from personal experience that Logan’s had his fair share of bad days. Really, the most well adjusted of them all is Thor, and considering his brother is Loki, we all know that bar isn’t too high.”

Peter managed to laugh at Wade’s summary. He was feeling better, and the hotter water was soothing. Still, he clung to Wade, face nuzzled against the merc’s throat as he said, “This isn’t the morning I thought we’d have last night.”

“Oh, baby,” Wade said, his voice lilting with amusement. “The morning is still young, and we don’t have to be to the tower until 10. Logan texted me. That means a solid three hours of snuggle time. And oh my sweet Odin, have I mentioned my lady parts adore you?”

“I adore all of you,” Peter said against Wade’s skin.

He could feel Wade’s lips curl into a smile against his temple. “Same here, baby boy.”

***

After snuggling, packing, suiting up, and double checking everything was unplugged and locked in the apartment, Peter and Wade headed for Avenger’s Tower via Spiderman’s Web Express. They hadn’t been on patrol in the last week--wouldn’t be for a while longer. And both Peter and Wade liked this method of travelling together. Even with the added weight of Wade’s giant dufflebag loaded with weapons and supplies, they were a well balanced unit that drew the eyes and cheers of those they passed on the streets below.

They landed together on the upper platform of the tower, and were surprised to find Banner up there. The scientist was seated on a mat in a pair of loose-fitting yoga pants, in the middle of some sort of meditation. He opened his eyes hearing the duo land, and he smiled.

“Good morning,” he said as he stood. “I’m afraid your companions are slightly indisposed today. Thor broke out the Asgardian mead, and I think Wanda and Logan found something that counteracted their healing factors. At least if one is to judge by the drunk texts I received at three o’clock this morning.”

“That explains the late start,” Peter said with a laugh.

“They are all recuperating in the common room,” Bruce said as he picked up his mat.

The three walked inside the Tower, heading toward the elevator. As they descended, Peter remembered something from the morning. “Were you talking to Evan?”

Wade nodded. “Yeah. He’s having some teenager issues. Grades and such. Told him we’d talk about it this evening.”

Peter smiled. Even through his mask, Peter could see the fondness that Wade had for the young mutant. Evan looked at Wade as a friend, a hero, and--much to Logan’s annoyance--a mentor. They talked all the time, either by text or calls. Usually a once a month, Wade snuck into the school to visit. The most touching thing Peter had ever seen in his life was the day that Wade received a card on Father’s Day from the mutant. Wade was too choked up to read it out loud.

When the elevator doors opened, the sight that greeted them was almost confusing. Thor was laying in the middle of the floor, cuddling with Mjolnir like a teddy bear. Wanda lay on top of the entertainment center, wrapped up in Thor’s red cape and wearing his winged helmet. Steve Rogers, who was never the type to drink in excess anyway, was passed out on couch with his feet propped up on the back rest, his head in the lap of Bucky Barnes, who also appeared to be passed out. The Winter Soldier was the only one to stir at the opening of the elevator doors.

Banner motioned for Peter and Wade to follow him to the kitchen, where Logan was nursing a large cup of coffee, his grimace reaching a level seldom achieved without eating something shit-covered and sour. He was wearing sunglasses. Expensive sunglasses. Probably Tony’s sunglasses.

“Morning!” Wade said cheerfully as he clapped the Wolverine on the shoulder.

Logan snarled and rolled his head on his shoulders, his neck popping loudly. “Please, Wade. No shouting. No loud noises. Actually, just sit down and shut the fuck up.”

Peter smirked, and said, “Somebody had a wild night.”

“Goes for you too, webhead,” Logan grumbled into his cup.

“It was a loud night,” Banner said, his voice soft as usual. “I could feel the music inside my soundproof quarters.”

“We needed soundproofed quarters last night, if you know what I’m saying,” Wade said with a smirk, just as a very beleaguered looking Tony Stark came through the door. He scowled at Wade as he walked to the coffee pot.

Banner gave Wade a less than amused look.

Logan’s claws moved under his skin.

Peter blushed, and said, “When are we leaving for the school?”

“As soon as everyone is sober enough to fly,” Logan grumbled, looking towards Tony.

Tony glared at him. “Fuck you, claws.” He took a drink of scalding coffee without wincing, then his brow twitched. “You’re wearing my favorite sunglasses. Why are you wearing my favorite sunglasses?” Logan opened his mouth to answer, but Tony shook his head. “You know what. Never mind. I don’t want to know. Where’s Steve?”

“In the common room,” Banner answered. “With Thor, Wanda, and James.”

“Guess I wasn’t invited to the party,” Tony said with a mix of hurt and annoyance. “In my tower. This is amazing.”

“We weren’t invited either, if it makes you feel any better,” Wade said with a shrug.

“I don’t want to know what you were doing last night,” Tony said, pointing from Peter to Wade and back. He refilled his coffee, and said, “I’m gonna go run some maintenance checks on the Quinjet. Come to the flight deck when you children can manage to find your pants.”

Tony left and Peter looked to Logan. “The Avengers are coming?”

“Uh huh,” Logan answered, wincing as he removed the sunglasses and flopped them on the table. He rubbed his eyes and said, “Before Thor turned it into a party, I had a pretty intense meeting with Rogers and Stark. It seems that little fella from SHIELD, Coulson, has been looking into the situation since Wade’s kidnapping.”

“What did he find?” Peter asked.

“At first, he thought it was nothing. There’s a conspiracy site, tracks things like UFO landings and Bigfoot sightings. Shit like that.” Logan fiddled with the sunglasses, and said, “Part of the community is dedicated to sightings of Nate Summers. Guess there’s still a small cult that thinks Nate was the messiah. Anyway, sightings have gone up in the last few months.”

Wade, who had been fidgeting a little up to that point, when stone still. “Where?”

“Sort of odd places,” Logan answered. “Kind of all over. But the funny thing… It’s all places where mutants were taken recently.”

“So there is a connection,” Wade said. His voice was hard, lacking the uncertainty or amused quality it often carried. Peter knew that Wade took what was happening seriously. Most of the time, he was very serious about the things going on. But right now, he wasn’t trying to cover it with humor.

Logan nodded. “It’s not much to go on. Still don’t know exactly where to look for the fucker. But, if it’s any consolation, you weren’t just hallucinating.”

“That’s not a consolation,” Wade said flatly. He took a deep breath, and said, “Does Wanda know?”

“Yeah. She was sitting in on the meeting.” Logan seemed to manage to frown more. “Did she tell you about the dreams she’s been having?”

Wade nodded. “Yeah. She said she dreams about Nate all the time.”

“Not those dreams,” Logan said. He looked Wade in the eye. “I believe that Stryfe has been following her around. It’s actually why I wanted to bring her here last night. To see if he showed up. Didn’t want to say anything in case the sonofabitch was listening in. I can smell him on her.”

The meaning behind those words sank into Wade, and the merc’s voice was deadly when he said, “Did she say the content of the dreams?”

Logan nodded. “Specific, um, intimate memories.”

Wade went rigid.

“She didn’t want to tell you,” Logan said, stopping Wade from asking the question. “She was worried it would bring up bad memories for you.”

“I need to talk to her,” Wade said, rising to his feet so fast his chair fell over.

Logan was in front of him in an instant. “Don’t be pissed she didn’t tell you.”

“I’m not,” Wade answered, removing his mask. Peter had never seen Wade look so agonized, as he said, “I just want to talk to my sister.”

After a moment, Logan let him leave the kitchen. Peter didn’t follow. He stayed seated and said, “This is going to be pretty fucked up, isn’t it.”

“Understatement, kid,” Logan said as he slipped the sunglasses on his face and left the kitchen.

***

Wanda woke, blinking slowly, and smiled seeing Wade kneeling beside the entertainment center. She snuggled into Thor’s cape, yawning as she asked, “Did you and Peter have a good time last night?”

“Yeah,” Wade said softly. “Looks like you had a pretty good time too.”

She nodded and laughed. “Yeah. Thor knows how to party in any universe.”

Wade smiled, and said, “I brought your battle gear, if you’re joining us at the school.”

Wanda studied Wade’s face for a moment, then sat up and asked, “Are you okay, bro? You seem sort of… I don’t know. Worried?”

He sighed, and said, “I am. About you.”

She smiled. “I’m fine, Wade. I promise the drinking is not a symptom of deeper issues.”

For a moment, Wade considered using something from Peter’s arsenal. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t need to hide the pain. That she didn’t need to spare his feelings or worry about him. But he also knew that it wouldn’t work, because Wanda was too much like him. Wanda and Wade would both walk through Hell to help a friend, but didn’t know how to ask for help. Not even from themselves. Their pain was internalized and festered into frustration, madness, self-hate, and crushing loneliness.

Being around Wanda was like being in front of a mirror, and Wade was starting to understand all those times that Peter had told him he deserved better. Because he knew that Wanda deserved a better, and in so many ways, they were the same person.

So Wade did something for her that he can’t do for himself, and hugged her.

“We’re going to be okay, right?” Wanda said as she squeezed him back.

Wade nodded, and said, “Of course.”

 

Wade was always good at lying to himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaaaah!! Seriously, I honestly thought I would have time to write at some point in the last week, but nope, nope, nope. I have been out being social, almost against my will on three occasions. Hopefully, that will not be a thing now. Hopefully. Because Me+Social does not equal Happy Koalas. Not at all. 
> 
> Hope the wait was worth it? This was kind of a difficult chapter for reasons that I can't quite put my finger on. However, the next chapter should be up in a couple days. I think the next chapter is why I've had trouble with this one, because it is the chapter I want to be writing, but this chapter needed to exist and I couldn't figure out how to bridge the gap without it, though I really really really tried. 
> 
> This is a long note.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for the Kudos, Comments, Bookmarks, and Subscribers!! Until recently, I didn't know that subscriptions was a thing until I finally looked at my Statistics tab, and holy man. I was amazed. 
> 
> Happy New Year!


	18. Past and Future - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade becomes a volunteer organ donor, and has a visitor.

Not all of the Avengers were going on this trip. While Tony was adamant about maintenance checks, he was not exactly welcome among the X-Men because of his contributions to the Sentinel program when he was young and dumb and thought he was doing something good. Banner also opted to stay behind, though he did tell Logan that if they needed a second opinion on anything to send him the information. Natasha and Clint were both out on a mission for SHIELD, and would not be back for a while. Bucky was still not “mission ready”.

Thus the team was Steve Rogers, Thor, Logan, the Deadpools, and Peter, who gathered on the air deck to load up the Quinjet. As they got ready to leave Avengers Tower, Wade tapped Wanda on the shoulder and motioned for her to follow him to the edge of the roof.

"Something on your mind, brodiddly?" she asked.

"You remember when I asked you to come here for vacation?" Wade asked as if it was a far distant event. “And I was all like, we can hang out, pester Peter, play video games and shit like that?”

She nodded. "Yeah. That was like, a week or so ago."

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry that didn’t happen.” Wade shrugged, and added, “I mean, I’ve kind of been all wrapped up in my wierd genital drama, and people are assholes, and we were kidnapped, and…”

“It’s okay, Wade,” she said, smiling through the mask.

Wade sighed. "Still, I feel like I’ve put you in danger, and it’s not what I wanted. It’s not what you deserve. I'm sorry you got wrapped up in all this crazy shit. I really am."

Wanda looked out at the city, her faux pony tail blowing in the breeze. She bit her lip and laughed in a humorless way. "You know what I do every night? Back home, I mean?"

Wade shook his head.

"It's a really annoying habit, according to my teammates. Expensive, according to Tony." Wanda made a gun of her hand, pointing the barrel-fingers at her temple. "I dream about Nate, then I wake up and blow my brains out. Nifty, huh? Sometimes, I don't even bother with sleep and go straight for the high calibre ammunition. At least I'm nice and do it in the bathroom. Few new tiles, and it's all better. I'm not, but the shower is."

Wade had been there too many times himself, though he never experienced the horror from the outside. At that moment, he realized just how much of a nightmare his previous love of self-harm had to be for those around him. Like Bob.

“I’m sorry,” was all Wade could say.

“We’re a couple sorry people, really. And this whole thing might be fucked up," she continued, arm dropping to her side. "But I'm not hurting myself. The only thing I’m thinking about hurting is Stryfe. And you don’t know how badly I want to hurt him.”

Wade nodded. “You’re gonna get the chance, sisterpool.”

Wanda punched him in the shoulder, and said, “Okay. Enough of this dismal talk, my male counterpart.” She looped her arm in his, and said, “I’m actually kind of excited to meet the rest of the X-Men. Or at least tour the school.”

“Evan!” Wade gasped merrily.

Wanda’s brow went up. “Are we speaking of Evan, your unofficially adopted Apocalypse child?”

“Yes,” Wade answer with a grin. “He’ll get a kick out of you.”

The Quinjet was ready when they got back, with Roger’s in the Captain’s chair. Logan, while somewhat nauseated by being in flight, was in communication with the school, and directed them to land on a field on the back end of the property, out of sight of the mansion and thus, out of sight of the students.

Ororo was waiting for them, standing by the landing area with a frown on her face and lightening in her eyes. The X-Men and Avengers did not work well together, and of their interactions ended with new reasons to never work together again. Add to that the reason they were gathering, and really, Storm had no reason to smile.

She greeted Logan with a nod as he stepped onto the neatly manicured grass, but she found her eyes fixed on Thor as he stepped into the sun. The God of Thunder gave her a warm smile, his eyes sparkling not with lightning, but with joy.

“Lady Storm,” he said with a bow. “It is good to see you again.”

“And you too,” Ororo said, unable to suppress a smile.

Steve shook Storm’s hand, and said, “Thank you for allowing us to come here. I know that you are a very busy person.”

Ororo sighed, and said, “As much as I hate to admit it, Captain, we need all the help we can get.”

Peter, Wade, and Wanda were the last to step off the Quinjet, and Ororo did not acknowledge them. Rather, she turned and started walking towards the infirmary building, with the Avengers following dutifully behind.

A couple times, Wade had mentioned how he wasn’t exactly a favorite of the X-Men--especially after his stint with the X-Force, which many of them considered to be nothing but a band of murdering assassins. Although, Peter noted, Wade was the only one who was so completely ostracized. Though Peter would never say it out loud--at least not at the school--he considered their attitude to be completely based on the fact that Wade was not a natural born mutant.

In the end, Peter was happy he didn’t voice that opinion as they entered the infirmary and saw the small group sitting in a sunny room. They were wrapped in warm blankets and dressed in clean, comfortable lounge clothes. They were relaxed, sipping tea as they chattered among themselves. It was clear that they weren’t at the peak of health, but they were at least somewhat happy.

Really, none of them knew what to expect. But Peter never imagined that he would see a group of mutants who looked like bad clones of the X-Men with Wade’s skin condition. The first to stand and speak was one who bore a striking resemblance to Ororo, and it was Storm who she addressed.

Wade hung back, Wanda and Peter staying with him as Ororo introduced Thor and Captain America to the group. The refugees seemed very pleased to meet both of them, especially Steve, though Peter couldn’t understand what they were saying.

“They thought he was a myth,” Wade said softly, because of course he spoke their language. “Propaganda put out by the Americans.”

“Where are they from?” Peter asked.

“North Korea,” Wanda answered.

It was that moment that Logan motioned for them to come over. Wanda continued to translate for Peter as Logan explained that Wade was like them, that he had been altered by experimentation. When Wade removed his mask, the others went silent. Then Wade talked.

“He’s telling them he’s sorry for what happened to them, that he didn’t know,” Wanda said softly. She listened, then continued, “They are worried about one of their friends. A man called Kim, who helped Logan and Daken infiltrate the camp and rescue them and their loved ones. He’s dying. They are all dying, not receiving the organs that they need to stay alive.”

“From Wade?” Peter asked.

“That’s how the mutations were maintained,” Wanda answered after a moment.

That made a chill run through Peter. He had to wonder if Wade had been taken more than he realized. Both Bob and Wade had told him about occasionally waking in strange places, but those insances were supposedly in the past. Then again, they could have just refined their technique. The thought that Wade was having his organs routinely harvested without his knowledge was very troubling.

Peter’s concerns only increased when Hank McCoy came striding out of the infirmary and said, “Thank heavens, you’re here Wade. I think I need your liver.”

Wade cocked his head. “I usually want a little sweet talking before someone demands my internal organs.”

“This is serious,” Hank said. “One of the refugees will die without an immediate transplant. And from what I’ve gathered, only your organs will do the job. Please.”

“Since you said the magic word,” Wade said with a shrug. He turned to Peter, and said, “You gonna hold my hand, sweetums?”

Peter didn’t know what to say, so he took Wade’s hand and followed Hank down into the surgery unit in the basement of the structure. Wade hesitated at the door, seeing the steel bed and medical equipment around the room. Peter could feel his pulse quickening, and he gave Wade’s hand a soft squeeze. He wanted to tell him he didn’t have to do this, that he could back out. But he knew better than to say that to Wade.

He also knew that Wade would probably rather gut himself than have a doctor touch him, even if it was someone he more or less trusted like Hank. In the end, Wade lay on the bed voluntarily after stripping of his clothing and putting on a pair of loose pants and hospital gown.

“This is the third time in two weeks I’ve been in a hospital,” Wade said, attempting to sound light hearted, though Peter could detect the edge of near panic under the words. Hank was starting to insert the IV, and Wade said, “Might as well take one of everything while you’re in there. Save yourself a trip, you know.”

“Don’t worry, Wade,” Hank said softly. He at least had good bedside manner. “I’ll try to make this as quick as possible. I know how difficult you are to keep sedated.”

Peter again squeezed Wade’s hand, and said, “I’ll be right here, okay? Not gonna leave you.”

Wade nodded, taking a deep breath to steel himself as he felt the drugs enter his system. Peter kissed his forehead, and whispered over and over, “I love you, I’m right here. Don’t worry.”

Then everything went completely black.

***

Wade’s eyes snapped open, and he came up out of the bed swinging a fist with a terrified scream that left Hank hanging from the ceiling. Peter grabbed Wade’s arms, using all his strength to wrestle the merc back down against the pillow, all while telling him, “You’re safe, I’m here. You’re safe.”

Gasping and vision swimming, Wade gripped Peter’s arms as he slowly sat back. His eyes were wide and he was making soft, frightened sounds on every breath. Peter kept touching him soothingly, trying  to get Wade to calm. It was heartbreaking to see so much terror in the merc’s eyes, but it was going away. Slowly.

“You’re in North Salem at the Jean Grey School,” Peter said softly. “Hank just finished closing you up, and is currently working on the refugee. You are safe. You are already healing. I’m right here, baby. I didn’t leave for one second.”

Wade’s muscles seemed to release all at once, and he relaxed against the pillow as he released a shaky breath. “I… thought I saw him.”

“Stryfe?”

Wade shook his head. “No. Him. The...The doctor. I can’t remember his name. Short. Bald. Wore glasses. Killbrew’s buddy. Don’t remember his name though…”

Peter kissed Wade’s forehead and said, “He’s not here. Just me.”

“I want to get out of here,” Wade said, his eyes still wide as he looked around the room.

“Okay.” Peter unhooked the IV, taking the proper care to remove the needle even if Wade would heal immediately. Then he wrapped Wade in a robe found on a nearby rack, and walked him to the elevator.

“I really don’t want to see another fuckin’ hospital,” Wade said as the doors closed.

Peter nodded. “Agreed.”

“Where’s Wanda?” he asked.

“Right here,” Wanda said from the now open elevator door.

Wade hadn’t realized they’d stopped. He didn’t resist when Wanda got on his other side, and she and Peter guided him to a well lit room that looked nothing like a hospital room. There was a large couch, big windows, and a very comfortable looking bed. Wade opted for the couch, and Peter set out to find food to stoke the fire of Wade’s regeneration.

After consuming a few bowls of soup, half a loaf of bread, and a wedge of cheese, Wade was feeling a little more alert and a lot less anxious. His brain was still on random mode, and concentration was next to impossible. Peter and Wanda were talking, but it was just a blur of words that didn’t exactly mean anything to him. So he kept eating, and gave up on being part of the conversation. He was content just having Peter beside him, rubbing his neck and shoulders and occasionally kissing his cheek. He felt safe. He felt loved. He was going to be okay, even if he couldn’t focus on what was happening around him.

Wade ended up falling asleep, cocooned in the warmth of a fluffy blanket with his head resting on Peter’s lap. Peter was so comfortable, Wade thought as he drifted. He tried to focus on Peter, on the memories of their life. His mind went to the amazing sex they’d had the night before, then skipped back to them dancing in Aunt May’s living room last New Year’s Eve. The world shifted, and they were fighting against giant symbiote reptiles and Wade was suddenly in Rumekistan standing in front of Nate’s statue. Then he saw Stryfe in a spray of blood after ripping him apart. Then a vague shape of Apocalypse as he dragged Stryfe away, screaming…

“Wade!” Peter was almost shouting as he shook Wade by the shoulders.

Wade made a thick sound that was probably supposed to be a scream, but just sounded like he was yodeling with a numb tongue. His eyes went from Peter to the gray skinned boy standing behind him. The dream overlayed the Celestial armor, and Wade could still see Stryfe in the distance smiling. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the imagery. And when he opened his eyes again, all he saw was Evan.

He let out a shaky laugh, and said, “Hey.”

Evan smiled. “Hey, Wade.”

Wade sat up with a boost from Peter. “I… Um… Sorry for the screaming.”

“It’s okay,” Evan said as he sat beside him. “I wake up like that, too.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Guess it comes with the territory.”

“I’ve never met a hero who didn’t wake up screaming now and then,” Wanda said as she sat in the chair opposite them.

Wade gestured to Wanda, and said, “I guess you’ve met my doppelganger.”

Evan nodded, smiling. “Yeah. I… I wasn’t sure what I was seeing at first.”

Peter chuckled. Evan’s eyes had gone from happy to confused to staring momentarily at Wanda’s cleavage, to finally looking past her to Peter as if seeking a lifeline. Peter gave the young mutant the quick rundown of how Wanda came to be with them, and Wanda had pinched his cheek and declared Evan the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. Which caused Evan to give her a very strange look that Peter translated as, How dare you pinch the cheek of an Apocalypse.

The four of them talked for a little bit about general things. Movies that were going to hit the theaters, favorite brands of frozen yogurt, how to effectively win a game of rock-paper-scissors against a telepath. Slowly things started to shift to more specific things, and Evan looked at Peter and said, “Any chance I can talk to Wade alone for a minute?”

Peter nodded and got up. “I needed to run down to the kitchen anyway.” He motioned for Wanda to follow, which she did without question. Wade had to chuckle when Wanda squealed, “He’s so freaking adorable!” once the door was shut.

Once alone, Wade straightened up and said, “What’s on your mind, Ev?”

Evan rubbed his palms on his pants. Wade could see he was nervous even before the kid said, “I kind of want to ask you something, but… I don’t know if it’s appropriate.”

Wade chuckled. “If this is about your love life, you know my motto. Always use protection and…”

“It’s not about that,” Evan said, cutting him off. He laughed, his gray cheeks purpling with embarrassment. He shook his head, and said, “It’s actually about Winter Break.”

“Oh?” Wade sobered. “What about it?”

“I… Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was wondering if I could maybe stay with you?” He quickly added, "I mean, you don't have to. It's just... Everyone leaves, and..."

"Evan."

 

The young mutant fell silent. Wade smiled. “Of course you can, buddy. You don’t even have to ask.”

“Really?” Evan said, as if he was surprised.

“I told you, anything you need, I’m here for you.” Wade gave the young mutant’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and said, “Seriously, though. Anytime you want to get away from here, you let me know. If you want to stay with us in the summers or weekends, or whatever, you’ve got a place. You might have to wrestle Wanda for the guest bed for a while, but the couch is pretty damn comfortable. I’ve enjoyed many naps upon its cushions.”

Evan’s eyes were a little misty, but he was smiling and voice steady when he said, “Thank you.”

Wade mussed his hair, and said, “Anything else?”

“No. That’s… That was all.”

Wade nodded, then the smile exited his face as he said, “Now we’re gonna talk about that Math grade, young man.”

“Dude,” Evan grumbled as he slouched back against the couch.

“Math is the key to the universe, young padawan.” Wade’s brow scrunched. “Or something like that. At least that’s what Peter says. According to several versions of Reed Richards, it’s this little toggle switch on a big console beside a glowy-swirly portal thingy. But I’m sure math was involved.”

“I don’t like the homework,” Evan complained. “It’s not that interesting to me. I don’t really care about what Y is or what X equals.”

“I’m kind of with you on that one,” Wade said as he slouched back too. “But, if I had it to do over? I’d probably try more. Maybe put my mind to something other than being a shithead. Not that you’re a shithead. Far, far from it.” He winced. “You know what? Bad example. Generally, I’m a bad example.”

Evan laughed. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Wade shrugged. “If you say so, kid.”

“I do say so.” He smiled, then sighed. “I probably should get back to the mansion. I didn’t exactly get permission to come here.”

 

"See?" Wade said, laughing. "I'm a terrible example."

 

Evan stood, and asked, “Wanna walk with me?”

 

“Sure.” Wade got up and found his boots and headed out of the infirmary.


	19. Past and Future - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda and Wade come face to face with the past, and learn what is in store for the future.

The sun was down and the air was cool when they stepped outside. Peter and Wanda were sitting at one of the outdoor tables having a competition on their phones to see who could get through the hardest level of Angry Birds the fastest.

Peter was the first to finish the level, and he jumped up with a hoot as Wanda flipped him off, laughing.

“You know,” Wade said, getting their attention. “You’re not exactly being sterling examples for the children.”

Wanda snorted. “I think we are excellent examples of why it’s fuckin’ awesome to be an adult.”

Evan nodded. “She has a point.”

Peter stuck his phone in his pocket, and said, “Logan just sent me a text. We’re all gathering in the office to discuss our plan of action. There’s been some developments during the afternoon. Don’t know what, exactly, just… Developments. Storm’s supposed to brief us at the Mansion.”

“Nothing like keeping it cryptic,” Wade grumbled as they started walking.

“They’ve been keeping everything kind of quiet, at least with us,” Evan said with a shrug. “Everyone knows something’s going on since the refugees showed up, but nobody really knows what.” He looked at Wade.

“Don’t worry,” Wade said, patting him on the shoulder. “Everythings fine. Just got some bad guys to deal with.”

Evan frowned. “I’m not a little kid, you know. I can handle knowing what’s happening.”

“Right now, we don’t even know what’s happening,” Wanda said. “We just know that there’s some weird shit going down, and we have a vague idea of who’s responsible. But other than that, we’re in the dark. That’s why we’re here.”

Evan looked at Wade for confirmation, and seemed satisfied at his nod. Then he asked, “Will you tell me? I know those people, the refugees...They look like you.”

“Yeah,” Wade said sadly. “They do. That’s because some assholes have been using my organs to make new mutants. It’s pretty screwed up.”

“If I can help, will you let me?” Evan asked.

“I know how capable you are, kid,” Wade said with a half smile. “But I’m not going to put you in danger.” He could see the disappointment in Evan’s eyes, and Wade added, “As long as I know you’ll be safe? Yeah. You can help me.”

They reached the doors, walking inside as Evan said, “It can’t be that bad, right?”

Wade chuckled. “Yeah, well you know what I say. If no one comes from the future to stop it, it can’t be that bad. I know from personal experience.”

Storm was waiting in the atrium, and gave Wade a scowl before looking at Evan and saying, “You are late for your study group.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “It’s Friday night. There’s no study group.”

“Go on, kid,” Wade said with an elbow nudge. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Evan hugged the merc, and Wade returned the gesture. Then the young mutant went to the stairs, heading up to his room.

Storm shook her head, and said, “I don’t know why that boy is so attached to you.”

“Maybe because I was there for him when no one else was,” Wade said flatly. They took a few steps in silence before Wade said, “He’s coming to stay with me during Winter Break, by the way.” Storm opened her mouth to argue, but Wade continued, “Not going to debate the subject. It was his request. End of discussion.”

Peter looked at him, and Wade winced and started to say something, but Peter just took his hand and nodded. End of discussion, indeed.

In reality, Peter loved the idea of Evan coming to stay with them. Evan was a great kid. But more than that, he secretly enjoyed the way Wade silenced Storm. While she was an amazing woman with amazing powers who had done incredible things for mutants and humans alike, Peter also knew her tendency to lose letters Wade used to send to the school.

“At any rate,” Storm said, getting their attention. “We have received some very interesting intelligence this afternoon from a very unexpected source. And considering the enemy we are facing, I should not have been so surprised.”

Wade huffed a laugh as she opened the office door. “What? Professor X make a dramatic comeback? Magneto hand over his Pokedex? Did Batroc the Leaper finally find a way to be usef…”

“No…” Wanda said, cutting Wade off.

They both froze in place.

For a moment, Wade felt like he had been plunged into ice water. His heart stopped. His hearing became muffled. He couldn’t breathe, because Nathan Dayspring Summers, otherwise known as Cable was sitting on Xavier’s massive desk in all his techno-organic glory. Steve Rogers was standing beside him, clearly the two had been talking, but now they were both slowly looking Wade’s direction. Maybe it was slow-motion, or maybe Wade’s rushing mind was experiencing reality on Pietro Maximoff’s level. Maybe that’s why his blood sounded like slow moving sludge in his ears and everyone sounded like they were speaking through thick liquid.

Then he shook his head, and everything came back to normal pace. The first thing he heard was Peter say, “Oh fuck.”

Wanda looked to Wade, her eyes wide and full of tears. She was shaking and turning pale. Wade reached just in time to keep her from falling to the floor. She clung to him, trembling so hard Wade knew she had the same icy feeling in her veins.

“Jesus, Storm. You were supposed to warn them,” Logan’s voice snapped through the haze. He walked to Wanda and took her hand. “Come on outside. Get some air.”

Wanda looked at Wade, but Wade’s eyes were fixed on Nathan, a subtle twitch in his jaw. His shoulders had gone rigid, and his hands were flexing at his sides. Wanda looked at Nate--Wade’s Nate--and gripped Logan’s arm, following the Wolverine out the double doors leading to the verandah.

Immediately, Wanda grabbed the railing and wretched. Logan rubbed her back, and said, “I know it’s a big fucking shock. You weren’t supposed to…”

“To know?” Wanda said thickly between heaves. She spat a couple times and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, then glared at Logan. “Why is everyone convinced I’m such a fragile fucking flower? Huh? Is it the tits?”

“No,” Logan said calmly. “It’s because he’s the doppelganger of someone you lost, who you loved very much. And while I’m certain that kidnapping doesn’t phase you, and obviously Stryfe’s assaults have only pissed you off, seeing him like this…”

“I can handle this, Logan,” Wanda said as tears fell down her cheeks.

Logan held her by the shoulders, and still speaking softly, said, “I know, babe. I know. I know you can handle this. You’re just like Wade, don’t know when to get out of the line of fire.” He smiled, and said, “Just know you’re not alone. Not just your adopted brother, either. You got me and Cap. Thor adores you. We’re here. You don’t have to be tough when you’ve got friends to be tough for you.”

Wanda nodded, looking down at the ground as another sob shook her body. Logan pulled her against him, hugging her tight. He’d lived a long time, but he never thought he’d see the day when he was friends with Wade Wilson, or comforting a Deadpool. Really, he was fine with this. He just hoped that the two of them could hold on to their sanity, because he already knew what was coming down the pipeline.

***

Wade and Nate stared at each other for what Peter imagined was a small eternity. Of all the outcomes he’d imagined, none of them came close to thinking that Nathan Summers was alive. That he would be the one standing in Xavier’s office.

“I know this must be a shock,” Nathan said, breaking the silence. The tension in the room, however, had never been higher.

“Nah,” Wade said, his face twisting in a scowl. As he spoke, his voice got rougher, louder. “Nothing shocking at all about running into a fucking deadman.”

Peter was caught between wanting to comfort and wanting to defend.

Wade took a step forward. A big step, enough to move into Nathan’s personal space. Nathan was tall and broad, much bigger than Wade. But that didn’t change the fact that Wade, though weakened from regeneration, looked like he was ready to rip him apart. He snarled, and said, “I should have seen this coming. Stryfe’s still here, so naturally you are too. Let me guess. You’ve crawled out from under your rock to save the future, right?”

“Something like that,” Nate answered, his voice soft, even though Wade was by this point shouting. “You need my help, and I’m here.”

The punch was something pretty much everyone saw coming. Wade’s fist connected solidly with Nate’s jaw, lifting him from the ground and sending the mutant flying over the desk. It took Thor, Cap, and Peter to keep Wade from following after. The three Avengers practically carried Wade to a chair and made him sit, while Kitty and Kurt--both of whom Peter hadn’t even noticed in the room--helped Nathan off the floor.

A trickle of blood ran from Nate’s lip, and he said, “I probably deserved that.”

“Fuck you,” Wade snapped from the chair. Peter gripped his shoulder and a very tiny fraction of Wade’s tension went away. He was seeing red, and wanted to see more red. He really wanted to keep hitting the giant mutant bastard.

“If we can calm the testosterone in the room, we will get you up to date on our intelligence,” Storm said, stepping into the middle of the room. “As Nathan had informed us while you were recovering, the Future has again been altered. And apparently the source of the alteration is something that occurs in the next 12 hours.”

Nate wiped the blood on the sleeve of his jacket, and said, “This is the result of an event that happened in the recent past. Something that has affected many universes and timelines, destroying many worlds in an unprecedented way.” He looked at Wade, a flicker of a smile crossing his lips as he said, “But then again, I’ve always known that the Wade Wilson’s of the world tend to have an affect.”

Wade was about to shout another _fuck you_ , but instead Peter asked in a tone that was satisfyingly angry, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the Deadpool Apocalypse,” Nathan answered.

Peter’s jaw tensed. Wade told him about the Deadpool Corps, and about how they all died while trying to stop a renegade Deadpool from destroying the universe. It was part of why Wade was so attached to Wanda---there weren’t many of his alternates left anymore. Still, Peter couldn’t quite figure out what it had to do with Stryfe.

“This Stryfe is trying to get back what he lost,” Nathan said. “He has been going from timeline to timeline, universe to universe trying to find another Wade Wilson.”

Wade laughed, a maniacal edge to it. “Great. Awesome. Good to know I’m in high demand.”

“More than you know,” Nate said briefly meeting Wade’s eyes before glancing at Peter, and returning his gaze somewhere in the middle distance. “He showed up here and found two of you. So naturally, he hoped to find more. And as it turns out, there is a scientist who’s been making rough copies of you for a couple decades.”

“The refugees?” Peter guessed.

Nate nodded. “Exactly.”

Wade cocked his head, started to stand up, but Thor and Peter’s hands kept him in place. “And how exactly did you find this out?”

“It was something that came to my attention when searching for the cause of these events,” Nathan answered.

The fury was back in Wade’s voice. “Any reason why you couldn’t just, I don’t know, go back to before this fucking bullshit started? Before those people in the hospital lost their friends and families? Their fucking kids!”

“You should know by now, Wade, that not everything is that simple.” Nathan sighed heavily, and said, “I calculated every possible event, and I know for certain that the best possible outcome for all involved is to intervene at this moment.”

“Best for us or for you?” Wade snapped.

“Best for the entire universe, Wade,” Nathan answered, speaking like a teacher to an obstinate child. Peter really wanted to punch him now. The mutant continued, “This time period, right now, is very tenuous. And the entire fate of the future is--”

“Oh, shut. The. Fuck. Up!” Wade groaned. “Enough with the exposition. Just get to the goddamn point! What is going to happen in the next twelve-fucking-hours that the whole fucking future is waiting on so we can get ready for the big sandpaper ass-fucking.”

Nathan tensed. “You are going to be taken, and Stryfe is going to use you to force Apocalypse to rise to power.”

“You mean Evan,” Wade said, finally shaking off Thor’s hand so he could stand. “He’s a good kid.”

“It doesn’t change that if we are not careful, he will become Apocalypse,” Nathan said sternly.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Wade said, stepping towards Nathan. The Thunder god gave him a stern look, and Wade held up his hand indicating that he wasn’t going to immediately try to kill anyone. “Evan is his name. You refer to him as Apocalypse again, and it will take more than Thunder Tits to keep me from strangling you.”

“What did you call me?” Ororo shouted, lightning flashing in her eyes.

Wade rolled his eyes. “Oh, get over yourself. I was talking about Thor.”

Thor just looked down at his chest and felt confused.

A voice of reason piped up, and it belonged to Peter. “What do we need to do?”

“I’m taking Wade to the Graymalkin,” Nathan answered.

Wade cocked his head. “The Graymalkin was destroyed?”

“I’ve been very busy,” Nathan said. “It is a salvaged ship. I have it cloaked in orbit.”

Peter asked the next obvious question. “What about Stryfe?”

Nate sighed. “I believe he will come for Wanda if Wade is not present. In reality, I think he is more fascinated by her than he is Wade. However, Wade is the only one that can accomplish what he needs.”

There was a dangerous edge to Wade’s voice when he asked, “And what does he need from me?”

“You’re the key to unleashing Apocalypse.”

Wade’s jaw tensed at the name.

Nathan smiled, and said, “Forgive me. You’re the key to unleashing Alan.”

“Evan!” Wade snapped. “And he’s not going to become Apocalypse. That’s not even a possibility!”

Nathan took a step closer, his eyes hard. “That is the future, Wade. I’ve seen it. It’s not just a possibility. It is a certainty. And I am not going to allow it to happen.”

Wade’s shoulders tensed, and Peter’s Spidey Senses went into overload. He readied to stop Wade from pummelling the mutant again, but instead, Wade stepped back and said, “I need to talk to Evan. He needs to know what’s going on.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Storm said, starting to turn.

“No,” Wade snapped. “He deserves to hear it from a friend.”

Without another word, Wade stormed out of the room. He walked on autopilot and didn’t stop until he was standing on the front lawn by the fountain. His whole body was shaking, and his mind was a jumbled mess trying to assimilate everything.

He heard Peter approaching, and he tried his best to stop shaking, but it wasn’t working. In fact, he was shaking harder. He covered his face and said, “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Peter sat on the edge of the fountain, looking up at Wade. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because,” was all Wade said as he sat beside him. He rested his head in his hands, covering his eyes. He was silent for a while, his body starting to slowly rock back and forth until he felt Peter’s hand between his shoulderblades. At first he worried the hand would bring some kind of punishment.

Peter rubbed soothing, even circles on Wade’s back. “You have every right to feel hurt.”

“Hurt…” Wade shook his head. “I’m not hurt. I’m… I’m _livid_.” He let out a frustrated sound, looking up at the sky. “Do you have any idea how much it fucked me up thinking that he _died_ for me? That he _sacrificed_ himself _for me_? I felt like he did this big thing. This big heroic thing that I can’t ever repay. That I sure as fuck didn’t deserve. And I _hated_ myself. I hated myself for how much I hated him before. All that shit. The way he fucked up my head, made me see things. How he made me look like a fool, like, some fucking idiot. Ruined my goddamn reputation. I fucking hated him, but he sacrificed himself and I could never say… I couldn’t…”

Wade let out a growl, kicking at the ground. “I shouldn’t give a fuck, and I do. Because I thought, at the very fucking least, we were friends. And for fucking years, I mourned my friend, who sacrificed himself. And now he’s here. He’s alive. And instead of being happy, I fucking hate him.”

Peter put his arm around him, not knowing what to say. Wade was hurting, and he wanted nothing more than to go in there and knock a few techno-organic teeth out of Nate Summer’s head. After a minute, Peter said, “I understand, Wade.”

“How?” Wade asked, his voice soft and muffled behind his hands.

“I was just thinking about Gwen.” Peter shrugged when Wade looked at him. “I mean… I would lose it if she suddenly showed up out of the blue. I would feel like shit if after all that time of mourning and depression, she just walked in one day and said, ‘hey Pete, guess what, I’m not dead’.”

Wade looked at Peter, really looked at him. There was no judgement, no anger, no jealousy. There was just a soft smile, warmth, and care. Peter cared about Wade and wanted him to be happy. Peter loved him.

“I love you, Peter,” Wade said softly as he leaned towards him. Their lips brushed together, their foreheads resting against each other. Peter’s hand came up to cup Wade’s cheek. Wade kissed him again, then straightened up, and said, “I need to talk to Evan.”

 **  
**“We’ll go together,” Peter said, linking their hands.


	20. Waking - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have changed, but Wade can't remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Contains non-con touching and general creepy behaviors.

The first thing that Wade noticed was the smell. The strong scent of rot and filth filled his nose and made his stomach turn, and he gagged. It took a moment to realize that he needed to roll over or move, otherwise he was going to choke on his own vomit. And it took effort. Effort that Wade hadn’t anticipated he would need to make such a small movement. The motion tipped him over an edge he wasn’t aware of, and Wade flopped onto a sticky, putrid floor.

Wade’s entire body felt weak, his joints stiff as if he hadn’t moved in a very long time. With his healing factor, those aches and pains were seldom present. When he finally opened his eyes, his vision was blurry as if looking through thick, yellow fog.

He took in a lungful of fetid air, and gagged out the only word he could think of, “P-Peter!”

The only answer was complete silence.

With all his strength, Wade pushed himself up to a sitting position, his hands and knees sliding on the slimy floor. His head fell back. His whole body felt weighted down. He was cold and simultaneously hot. Sweat poured from his face even as his body shook and teeth chattered. He did his best to suppress the shivers, which only served to make his insides feel like they were twisting.

“Peter!” he again called out, his hoarse voice echoing off the walls. Again, no answer.

His head was throbbing now, a constant pain that intensified with every sluggish beat of his heart. The pain made thinking impossible. Everything was in a fog. He couldn’t remember where he was or how he got there, couldn’t remember what he was doing just moments ago. And it felt like he’d been somewhere just before smelling the stench. An old place. A school. Fountain. Stairs. Someone… It was so hard to remember.

Peter was there, wasn’t he? He had to have been. But the problem was, Wade was struggling to remember who exactly Peter was. Now and then the fog parted and he saw brown eyes and messy hair, but other than that “Peter” was just a name. A name that made him ache in a different way. A name that made tears come to his eyes.

Wade choked out a sob, gasping the name one more time as he hugged himself and began rocking back and forth. The disgusting scent around him started to fade, but he couldn’t quite bring his mind and body back together. Not until he felt the water.

It was warm water. Clean, and he was immersed in it up to his chest. There were hands on him, moving in circles, slick against his skin with soap that filled his senses with the earthy aroma of sandalwood and cedar. Water splashed against him again, and Wade let out a soft sound at the comforting feeling.

“Peter,” he whispered, his head drooping forward.

A voice behind him said, “I knew you were starting to wake.”

The voice was familiar, but the only name Wade could remember was “Peter”, which he whispered again. The person at his back shifted, the water shifting with them, coming to rest between Wade’s knees. A moment later a soft cloth was on his face, dabbing gently at his eyes. Wade could feel the gunk coming away with each swipe, and when the cloth was removed, Wade finally opened his eyes.

The person sitting in front of him did not have messy brown hair. Nor did he have dark brown eyes. And his name sure as fuck wasn’t Peter.

“Stryfe,” Wade said in a voice that was too hoarse to show how much terror he felt in that moment.

Stryfe reached towards him, and Wade flinched back. He wanted to run, but his body was too weak. Seeing the reaction, Stryfe’s hand went back in the water, a frown on his face. “I’m not going to hurt you, Wade. I have learned my lesson.”

“Lesson…?” Wade managed to croak out. The shivering was back despite the warmth of the water. He finally managed to look down at his body. His scarred skin hung loose on his too-thin arms. His hands looked leathery, and his fingernails were long and clawlike. Even after soaking in the bath, he could see the accumulation of tissue under them, the source of which was probably the deep scratches on his chest and upper arms. He reached up to touch his face and jerked his hand back, feeling bone.

“It’s okay.” Again, Stryfe reached for him, his hand coming up to cup Wade’s face. Wade could barely feel the touch, light as it was. He said, “You’ve been gone a long time. And I have missed you very much.”

“Long time…” Wade whispered. He tried to understand, really understand. But the fog in his head felt even more impenetrable than before. “Where… I don’t…” He withdrew from the touch, curling in on himself as he held his head. “I can’t remember.”

“It is my fault, my beloved.” Stryfe sounded genuinely remorseful. He gently stroked Wade’s shoulder. “Your mind is so fragile, and I did not take care of you as I should have. I was a fool, and malicious. Your mind broke. And you…” He choked up a little, the yellow glow of his eye dimming as he said, “You withdrew into yourself. As far away from me as if you had died.”

Wade shuddered as some of the fog lifted. He remembered so clearly being in Stryfe’s presence. Remembered the torture and agony. Remembered blood caking his body and suit to the point it had to be scraped off his body. Not his blood. Blood of those he was forced to torment with Stryfe inside his mind directing each slash and twist of the blade. And the screams. They echoed through his mind as clear as a bell, as horrifying as any nightmare. And their faces…

“They were children,” Wade gasped, gagging on a sob.

“I will never make you do that again,” Stryfe said, his voice meant to soothe, but all it did was make Wade shake more. The terror was seizing his entire being, amplified by the fact that even with the flood of adrenaline, he couldn’t move and he knew it was Stryfe’s doing. He was Stryfe’s puppet, and the bastard was holding his strings in an iron grip.

Somewhere in the fog, Wade could see beautiful brown eyes. They looked at him with love and adoration, a twinkle visible even in the dark accompanied by a smile that made the world stop. Beautiful, young, flawless. Perfection.

“Peter,” Wade gasped, his shoulders shaking as helpless tears streamed down his face.

“It was a fantasy,” Stryfe said softly. “Just a dream.”

“No,” Wade whimpered, even as the image of the younger man’s face started to slip away like vapor. Along with it the feeling of being loved and cared for, something that felt so real. So desperately real that Wade had shouted for this fantasy upon waking. He again hugged himself, rocking in the water, saying over and over, “No no no no no no no.”

Then Stryfe’s arms were around him, and Wade sobbed and shook. He wanted to scream, wanted to die, wanted to wake up! But the harder he tried to remember his life, tried to remember Peter, the farther it moved from his reach. The only thing he could remember was a bloody table and lifeless eyes. Skin and gore that squished under his worn-out boots, and a smile from Stryfe that twisted him inside.

***

After bathing and dressing in the clothes Stryfe provided, Wade was seated at a table filled with strange foods that he didn’t recall seeing before. Some of it could be identified as some sort of bird. There were vegetables, though he couldn’t identify them. Probably something created by the Askani people to be nutritious and quickly synthesized. Somewhere in his mind, Wade remembered eating things like this. He remembered the stringy texture of the birds and the graininess of the roots. It was there, but he didn’t remember liking it.

Then again, Wade had a hard time imagining he ever liked anything about this place. He felt numbed by it, like he existed but that was the extent of his involvement in his surroundings. The walls were gray and cold. There was no light coming through the narrow windows; his only view was that of a blackened sky. The air smelled like hot metal and ozone. Wasn’t he somewhere better before? Wasn’t there something better?

Chewing was awkward with the way his lips were pulled away from his teeth, as if his body had been consuming itself. Just going off the evidence, it was a correct assumption. He was so thin he could count his ribs, and his spine looked like a string of boney beads through the back of his shirt. He was emaciated, dried out. But still, he didn’t really want to eat even if it would aid his healing factor. He didn’t want to heal. He wanted to die.

“You need to eat, Wade,” Stryfe said from his place across the table. “Your healing factor isn’t what it used to be.”

“Good to know,” Wade mumbled before taking another bite of stringy meat. He washed it down with tepid tea made from some kind of cedar. It tasted bitter and hit his stomach like a dose of acid. His jaw was getting tired. His eyelids were getting heavy; everything felt so exhausting. Even breathing. Like he’d forgotten how to do that automatically. Like he was missing something important. Like an arm.

Wade stopped eating and sat staring down at his plate, the fog in his head momentarily lifting. For just a second, he could remember being in a dark bedroom. The young face of Peter staring at him with complete adoration, like he was the most amazing thing on the planet. And a voice… off key. A song… _I thought love was only true in fairy tales. Meant for someone else but not for me..._

Then the memory was gone, swallowed by the fog before Wade could even put it to words. He rested his heavy head on his hand, propping his elbow on the table for added support.

“Perhaps sleep would be best,” Stryfe said. He reached down to lift Wade, but Wade shrugged him off.

“No,” was all  Wade could get out. He wanted to say, _Don’t touch me. Don’t breathe on me. Don’t even think about getting in my personal space._ But he didn’t have the energy. His voice was just as lost as the memories--or fantasies--he was struggling to recall.

Stryfe stepped away, and said, “Your chamber is where it has always been. If you need help…”

“Fuck you,” Wade managed to hiss as he shoved up to his feet and started to walk away from the table. Of course he remembered where his chamber was. It was a dark room directly next to Stryfe’s. There was a hard bed, a single blanket, and lots of devices for Wade’s torture, torment, and humiliation. He was Stryfe’s favorite toy, and one that was used frequently and not well maintained.

The thought of Stryfe touching him made Wade’s skin crawl. And worse, he was so damned weak there was no hope of fighting him off. There was never much hope in this world.

It was a long walk, too. Longer than Wade recalled. But the other times that he had made the trek, he’d been strong, moving with mechanical efficiency as only a masochistic psychopath could manage. He hated Stryfe. Always hated him. But… He had the face of someone he loved once a very long time ago.

But Peter loved him recently. Wade was sure of this. He just couldn’t remember the details. And as much as he hated to think it was true, maybe it was all just a dream. After all, Wade was ugly and scarred. He was insane. A killer. What kind of person could love him anyway? Certainly not someone as beautiful and perfect as the man in his imagination.

It was all a dream. This was his reality now. He belonged to Stryfe. And at some point, probably sooner than he wanted, Stryfe would come to claim him as he did before. It would be brutal and violent, and Wade would take it because at least someone wanted him.

Wade arrived at the room and stepped into the darkness, wishing desperately for it to swallow him whole. Wishing that he wouldn’t fall asleep. Then wishing that he would stay asleep forever, because at least Peter was there.

 


	21. Waking - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter enters the uncanny valley.

Peter let out a low groan, feeling the bright sun on his face. He yawned, rolling over expecting to find someone laying beside him, but getting an armful of nothing. He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the wall, wondering how the wall got so close to his bed. Also, why was the sun hitting him in the morning? Wasn’t there curtains for that sort of thing.

After a minute or two, he sat up in his twin-sized bed feeling like he should know exactly where he is. Everything in the room was stuff he recognized: books, desk, dresser, a poster or two. All of it was familiar, but his mind was sluggish and couldn’t quite piece it together. It felt like something was missing, something he reached for, finding only empty bed and wall.

_Oh yeah. I’m home._

__

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head suddenly pounding. He felt hungover, but he couldn’t recall drinking. Peter didn’t drink. He was a serious student, on the track to graduate at the top of his class. But he’d done something, something that left his stomach feeling like it was full of writhing slugs. He barely had time to grab the trashcan as his body heaved and heaved, spewing out a foul smelling combination that could not be identified by color or texture.

Gwen. I need to call Gwen. Strangely, just thinking about Gwen made his eyes start to water and a pain settled in his chest that felt like a hundred pound weight. He started shaking as he felt around his clothes for his phone, but couldn’t find it. Standing, he took a minute to find his balance before searching around the room. Still, no phone. He tried to remember the last time he used it, but he was drawing a complete blank. The harder he tried to conjure up any sort of memory, the more his head throbbed. So he decided to give up and go find some aspirin to remedy the monster headache. Maybe some food. He was starving.

There was an amazing scent outside his door. Smelled like coffee and pancakes. The thought of pancakes made his mouth water and brought up a strange image of a man in a red and black corset and caused him to feel a stirring in his lower stomach that had nothing to do with nausea. He made a mental note to ask Gwen about that one. He laughed, trying to put that memory with something else, but everything was hazy. He had the feeling he was going to hear one helluva story when he finally got hold of Gwen, if the brief flashes popping into his head were anything to go by. A man in red with a lot of scars. A gray kid with black lips. A man with claws. Must have been a crazy-ass party. He just hoped he wasn’t walking downstairs into a lecture. _Who drove me home? When did I become a wild-child? Did I call Uncle Ben?_

__

Again, Peter felt a deep pain at the thought of Uncle Ben. His eyes burned and his throat felt thick, but he couldn’t reconcile why he would feel this way.

Then he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and froze. He looked half dead. There were bags under his eyes, bruises on his chin, and about three days growth of stubble on his usually clean shaven face. He looked down at himself, at his calloused hands and felt like he was missing something really important. Almost desperately, he tried to come up with anything to explain his current state, including his dirty clothes, but nothing was coming to mind.

He rubbed his temples and made his way to the upstairs bathroom to dig around in the medicine cabinet and brush his teeth. Something was different about the bathroom too. Usually it had his stuff on the counter, like shaving cream and eyeglass cleaner. That was another thing missing: his glasses. When he realized his toothbrush wasn’t in the holder, Peter felt like he was going to cry. He settled for a swig of mouthwash to get rid of the taste of bile and bad decisions.

With his head again throbbing, Peter returned to his bedroom and went to the dresser for some clean clothes, but was shocked to find it mostly empty. The only clothing was a couple pair of sweatpants, a couple t-shirts with a symbol that looked like an angry red and black emoji, and socks. The closet was just as empty, having only one pair of jeans that were far too big for him with a Hello Kitty patch on the butt. He stared at the jeans for a long time, really trying to understand why he felt like he had entered the uncanny valley.

Stranger still, when he took off his clothes he found that he was wearing a red and blue body suit covered in a grid pattern. Peter stared down at the shirt and pants, and decided that he didn’t really want to know what kind of party he went to the night before. He just really, really hoped nobody took pictures.

Peter changed clothes, balling up the spandex outfit and hiding it under the bed. He dressed in a pair of the loose-fitting sweatpants and one of the baggy t-shirts, wondering why in the world he would have such oversized clothing and where the rest of his stuff went.

When he again emerged from the bedroom, the sweet aroma of pancakes was in the air. The aroma made his stomach growl and caused a strange feeling to settle in his skin, almost like the scent turned him on, as if he expected to find something sexy waiting in the kitchen that wasn’t his Aunt May. Someone tall and scarred with a deep, rough voice…

His head was throbbing again.

_Maybe I took ecstasy last night..._

__

If not for the fact that he was starving, Peter would have stayed in his room. But he knew how his aunt and uncle were. They would be at his door if he didn’t come downstairs soon, and he would rather walk into a lecture by his own steam rather than be ambushed.

He walked down the stairs, looking at the familiar family photos that decorated the wall. There seemed to be more of them, and he stopped to look at one that he didn’t remember. It was a framed picture of a mugshot of Aunt May. She was holding up a peace sign and smiling. He huffed a laugh, trying to figure out why she would have a picture like that. _Maybe a carnival? I really need to pay attention…_

__

The living room was oddly messy. There was a blanket on the couch, clothes laying over the back of one of the chairs. A bottle of wine and two glasses sat empty on the coffee table next to a blue-ray disc box for a movie Peter had never heard of. He grimaced, wondering exactly what his Aunt and Uncle were doing the night before, and suddenly feeling kind of happy he had no memory of it.

There were voices in the kitchen, and Peter took a deep breath to steel himself for disapproving glares and speeches that start with, “I’m disappointed.”

He should have prepared to find Aunt May wearing nothing but a t-shirt and sitting in the lap of a broad-shouldered, dark haired man who was absolutely not Uncle Ben.

May gasped upon seeing him, her eyes going wide. The stranger raised an eyebrow, and with a thick accent, said, “Good morning.”

Peter’s jaw was slack and his eyebrows were practically up to his hairline. He fish-mouthed a couple of times before saying, “Wh- wh- what the…”

“What are you doing here?” May asked, grabbing her robe off the back of the empty kitchen chair. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I mean, I didn’t know you were here. Why didn’t you call? Did you and Wade have a fight?”

“What?” Peter asked, his head again throbbing like his brain was going to erupt from his skull. “I _live_ here.”

May raised an eyebrow. “Honey, you haven’t lived here for almost 8 years. What’s going on?” She squinted at him. “Are you on drugs?”

“Am I on _drugs_?” Peter almost squeaked. “No, no. Why are you… Who the hell is that!”

“This is Armando,” May said as if it was obvious. “My neighbor whom you said I should introduce myself to via wine and cookies?”

Peter shook his head. “What? I don’t… And even if I did-- Why--? Why do you…” He could feel something constricting inside his chest as he asked, “Where’s Uncle Ben?”

May’s face fell as she studied Peter’s eyes. “Peter, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

The throbbing in his head was becoming too intense, like something was going to break through at any moment. His entire face hurt and body shook to the point he couldn’t stay upright. He could feel hands on him, feel himself become weightless, followed by a chill on his face. Then there was noise and people, and arguing. Everything mixed and blurred in his head, along with golden eyes and scarred skin, gravestones and swords, guns and flying over buildings.

By the time his head started to quiet down, Peter discovered that he was in a hospital room. There was an amber liquid slowly drifting into his veins. There was a man with dark hair wearing a lab coat adjusting the flow of the IV. The man smiled, and said, “I figured you’d come around soon. Don’t worry, Peter. You’re in safe hands.”

“Where…” Peter said, his hand coming up to cover his eyes. “Where am I?”

“You’re in Medical at Avengers Tower,” the doctor said. “Does that sound familiar to you?”

Peter’s brow scrunched. “Avengers?”

“It’s okay if you don’t recall it right now.” The doctor held out his hand, and said, “I’m Dr. Bruce Banner. You might not remember me, but we’re actually friends. We work together.”

“In a hospital?” Peter asked. His head was still throbbing.

“No,” Dr. Banner said with a small smile as he sat in a rolling stool and raised the head of the bed so Peter was sitting more upright. “Now, I’ve already informed your aunt, but I need to tell you. At some point, you were injected with a large dose of a drug called Tabula Rasa. Does that mean anything to you?”

“It means ‘blank slate’ in Latin, right?” Peter said.

Banner nodded. “It’s also the name of a very powerful drug designed to erase memories.”

Peter nodded. He might not remember much, but he was still smart enough to put two and two together. “I’ve been drugged. I’ve lost my memories. A lot of memories, apparently.”

“From what we’ve gathered, nearly a decade,” Banner said sympathetically. He gestured to the IV, and said, “I’ve been working on an antidote, since this isn’t the first time we’ve encountered the drug. Another person in your life, a man named Wade and his sister Wanda were affected by the same drug. Do you recall either of them?”

“No,” Peter said. “But my aunt mentioned a ‘Wade’.” Just saying the name made Peter feel funny, and all he could think of was a red and black. It was strange, and he asked, “Is Wade… What is he to me?”

“You’ve been in a romantic relationship with him for two years,” Banner answered.

Peter laughed once, and asked, “Where is he?”

Banner’s expression turned, and he said, “We don’t know. You were on a mission together. As of right now, you are the only member of the team that we have found. The rest have not reported in for the last 24 hours and we’ve not been able to make contact with them, nor contact the Jean Grey School.”

The throbbing was settling between Peter’s eyes, and he asked, “What kind of mission? What…” He let out a groan as the pain intensified. There was a beep, and Peter felt a brief pressure in his arm. A moment later, the pain started to subside. But then again, so did his consciousness.

“Try to relax, okay Peter?” Banner said softly. “We’ll try talking a little later, once the antidote has had a chance to work in your system.”

 **  
**Peter nodded, sinking back into the welcoming darkness.


	22. Meanwhile, Wanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda is back home, and isn't buying into the fantasy.

Even though her head was pounding and body felt like it had been taken over by a newborn giraffe, Wanda knew exactly what had happened and why she was laying in her own bed in her old apartment with a naked Nate Summers at her back. Yeah. This was supposed to be a fantasy come true. Stryfe fail.

With more flailing than she would like to admit, Wanda managed to swing herself into a sitting position. She felt like a mannequin whose strings had been snipped. Her limbs were heavy, her vision blurry, and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. She made an uncoordinated swipe at Nate, trying to wake him and barely glanced off his TO shoulder. He didn’t stirl.

“Nnnnate,” she slurred, then stopped to stretched her mouth and tongue before trying again. “Nnathan Shummerth. Fuuuck…”

Rather than standing like she planned, Wanda flopped down on her hands and knees, crawling across the floor towards the dresser. It took longer to get there than she wanted because of a sudden nap that left her face puckered by the knotted tassels of the area rug and spitting out fibers until she finally reached her goal of grabbing her Avengers Communicator, which was perched on the edge.

She hit the Home button, and growled when nothing happened.

“Godtham schtupit charsher…” she cursed as she inched towards the wall where the charger was laying in a neat coil by the outlet. It took three tries to get the plug in the outlet, and a further eight tries to get the charger plugged into the phone. Due to the complete death of the battery, Wanda had to wait for the damned thing to charge it could even be turned on. So, she took another nap.

When she next opened her eyes, she found Evan kneeling down by her feet about to poke her in the shoulder with a coat hanger. His eyes went a little wide, and he gasped, “I thought you were never going to wake up!”

“It ‘appens,” Wanda mumbled as he sat slightly more upright. She squinted at him, and asked, “You okay?”

“Other than not knowing where I am and maintaining invisibility for a week?” Evan answered, more fear in his voice than he probably wanted to project. “There were soldiers in the school, and I hid with you, but he took Wade. Stryfe took Wade! And I didn’t do anything. I just hid. And then he was gone, and I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

Wanda flailed an arm out and clapped down on his shoulder. “S’okay, lil’ buddy. Mama Poolie’s got it under control, ‘kay? We’re gonna get’m back.” Her hand slid off his shoulder and hit the floor with a loud slap, and Wanda remembered there was a phone in her other hand. She looked at Evan, and said, “Y’look a lil’ more cohergthe… Fuck.”

“Coherent?” Evan supplied.

“That word.” Wanda gestured to the phone, and slurred out, “Speedialtwo. Tell’em comma my’partment.”

“Speed dial two, come to your apartment,” Evan said as he dialed.

Wanda’s head thumped back against the wall, her eyes going closed for a moment, listening to Evan speak on the phone. Sounded like he was talking to Hawkeye, judging from the tone and the fact that Evan chucked once. Clint was good at keeping people positive in shitty situations, and this was a pretty shitty situation, Wanda thought as she looked back towards the bed where Nate Summers of 616 was sleeping with his face burrowed into the pillow. The sheet was just barely covering his righteous ass, and Wanda had to look away and focus on why she was pissed.

She remembered standing on the verandah at the school with Logan. Thor and Steve came out of Xavier’s office looking like they had to sit through one of mommy and daddy’s fights. A couple minutes later, Nathan also joined them. He didn’t have much to say to her, other than to go over his plan to take Wade to the Graymalkin.

“So you’re going to take Wade to the Graymalkin, and get your float on in happy space, while we wait down here for your other-universal brother to take me away?” Wanda said, her eyebrow raised. “You do realize that at any point, Stryfe could have taken us in the city. Why would he do it here?”

“I don’t claim to know his reasoning, just that he’s going to do it,” Nate said flatly.

Patiently, Steve said, “Are you comfortable with the idea of being used as bait?”

Without hesitation, Wanda said, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t like the idea of putting you in danger,” Steve said sternly.

“Pffft,” Wanda said with a wave of her hand. “Danger, schmanger. I’m not worried.”

Nate’s left eye flickered a little brighter. “It would be best if you took this seriously, Wilson.”

Wanda’s eyes flared with anger. “I am taking this situation very fucking seriously. Wade is my friend. More than that, a brother. I’m not going to let him face this insanity alone. I’m not the type to abandon my friends. I’m not the ‘Man out of Time’. I’m the Merc with the Mouth. I don’t ‘fix’ timelines, I just get to live in them and deal with the consequences of your meddling, just like the rest of us here. So yeah, we’re gonna fight this battle. We’re gonna fuck Stryfe up from the floor up. You can take that down as fucking history. And while you’re at it, you can take your pretentious tone and shove it up your techno organic shiny hiney.”

It was that moment that Wanda felt it. “It” being the funny sensation on your skin just before you teleport. Almost like static electricity, but with the subtle addition of disentangling your atoms. She had just enough time to register her surprise before her entire body flew apart and reassembled in a different location.

The details got kind of fuzzy, but she knew that Wade was there and had been shredded. Not an exaggeration. His body had been mutilated and he was the kind of unconscious that involved visits from horny skelletal spectors. Peter was on the ground, still breathing but barely. She searched with her eyes for Evan, but couldn’t see him. She did, however, see Nate on the ground just a couple feet away.

“There is so much I can give to you,” Stryfe said as he approached where she lay. Wanda couldn’t move, and she knew that it was because he was pinning her. She could feel the silvery tendrils of TK on her skin, just as familiar and unwanted as the bodyslide. Stryfe knelt beside her and said, “This is the only way I can save myself, and as luck would have it, I can save you. Just like I promised. Remember?”

“You’re insane,” Wanda managed to say.

Stryfe nodded. “I am certain that is true. But I will be better now because I have him.”

“You’ll never have him,” Wanda said flatly. “You’ll never have him, because you can’t own him. You might fuck with his head, but you’ll never have his heart.”

Stryfe gestured towards where Wade lay flayed and lifeless. “He will complete me, and will never remember anything except for me.” He looked back at Wanda, smiling. “And you will go home with the one you love. And you will be happy again. Don’t you want that?”

Wanda tried to get up, but the TK pushed down harder. “I don’t want a replacement. Cuz no one can replace Nate, not even another Nate.”

“But he won’t be a replacement. I’ll fix that, too.” He held up a syringe filled with a greenish liquid. “Doctor Butler has been very helpful. One shot of this, and you won’t remember anything except what I want you to remember.”

“I hope you remember this,” Wanda sneered as the needle went in her arm, the drugs going to work immediately. “Remember… to tell… Butler… coming for him… after you’re… dead.”

***

Wanda laughed, now sitting in her and Nate’s old apartment with Hawkeye, General America, and Doom around her. “Dumb bastard just didn’t get it. The drugs won’t work on me.”

“What do we need to do?” the General asked.

“We need to wake up Nate 616, and figure out where the fuck Stryfe took my brother,” Wanda answered flatly. She was still sluggish, but she could at least talk again. The drugs were far more potent, that was certain. But it still didn’t erase her memories.

“Reed is already calibrating the system,” Doom said, staring down at his communicator. He was texting quickly, probably informing the rest of the team of what was happening.

Wanda sighed, and said, “This is what I get for wanting to take a vacation. Should have just taken Tony up on that whole-island-to-myself thing.”

Hawkeye smirked. “Yeah, well I’ve never known you to do anything the easy way.” He gestured towards the kitchen, and asked, “What about the kid?”

“I’m coming with you,” Evan said.

General America shook his head. “Son, I know you want to help, but you are just a…”

But before the General could get the words out, Evan had transformed from a small, slight teenager to a nearly 7-foot version of himself that would probably make Hulk back up. Wanda got up and walked to him, tilting her head up to look into his blood-red eyes. Though he was a giant, she could still see the uncertainty of a kid barely through puberty.

Clint nodded. “You can be on my team, dude. Any day.”

“He’s helping us,” Wanda said to the General.

“This is an interesting way to wake up,” Nate said from the bedroom door, drawing everyone’s attention. His eyes were fixed on Evan, who quickly shrank back to tiny-Evan-size and stepped a little closer to Wanda.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Wanda said with a smirk, her heart pounding despite her casual tone. For all her bravado, he still looked and sounded like everything she was missing. She pushed all of those feelings onto the fire of rage she was stoking just for Stryfe.

Nate rubbed his brow and said, “I have missed something pretty important, haven’t I?”

***

Using data from Nate’s implanted temporal core, Reed Richards and Victor von Doom were able to detect the quantum signature of Stryfe. The two scientists explained it very eloquently with large words and equations proving that they were, in fact, the brightest bulbs in Avengers Tower, and Wanda just fought back the urge to clap when they were finished explaining how bad Stryfe was at covering his tracks.

While the brains were working out the coordinants, the rest of the Avengers were planning their assault. Nate 616 drew up detailed schematics for Stryfe’s compound, which was the remnant of a celestial ship once occupied by Apocalypse. It was massive and potentially heavily guarded. Not to mention that he had only been to the place in an alternate timeline of an alternate Universe.

After establishing a plan, Wanda took Evan to the armory to get supplies for the trip. While she changed into a fresh uniform and loaded up on guns, the other Avengers outfitted Genesis for battle. Bruce provided the kid with some of his specialty clothing that didn’t shred when he altered forms, including pants, boots, and a shirt that Wanda thought made Evan look like a genie. Falcon dug out a pair of glasses that once belonged to Scott Summers to help channel Evan’s lazer-eyes. The final piece came from a box that once belonged to Nate 722. It was a piece of Celestial technology, designed to enhance his force barriers.

“It’s a good thing we know how to improvise,” Tony Stark said with a raised eyebrow and smirk. He looked Nate over, and said, “You’re a lot different from, uh, you.”

“From what I have gathered, your Nathan lived mostly in peace,” Nate said, glancing towards Wanda. “I’ve only known war.”

“Sounds like a problem in your world,” Tony said with a sigh. “Wade was the first from your world we ever met.”

Nate huffed a laugh. “Sorry about your luck.”

“We’re not,” Tony said. “We liked him. And honestly, he’s the reason we’re doing this. He helped us, and we owe him.”

“You’re a lot different from the you I know too,” Nate said with a smirk.

Once the weapons were loaded and ammo gathered, the Avengers plus Evan and Cable gathered in the portal room. Iron Man, General America, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Falcon, Thor, and Lady Deadpool, the whole team gathering together for the first time in what felt like ages.

 **  
**As the portal opened, Wanda couldn’t help but say, “I’ve missed you guys.”


	23. A Real Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade has a breakthrough. Maybe PMS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some things that some people might find icky, because despite being 2015, there are many who are weirded out by certain functions of the female anatomy.

The days with Stryfe bled into each other, feeling like a series of hallucinations rather than reality. It was a predictable cycle, too. Wade would wake and not move from his spot in the bed. He would think about his dreams, whisper a name that meant less and less with each passing hour, then cry softly into his pillow. He had no energy for movement, no desire to leave the confining room. All he wanted to do was die, or find the bliss of insanity deep inside himself.

Stryfe would come into the room and force him to get up, force him to come and eat in the dining room. Wade would make a cursory effort, taking a few bites that seemed more and more bitter as the days passed.

After eating, Stryfe would have Wade walk with him around the massive tower. It was an inspection tour, where Stryfe would examine the work of his soldiers and minions, all of whom greeted Wade with a trembling salute. They called him “The Butcher” and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Never in his life had Wade ever felt so alone.

The walks were exhausting, and Wade would sleep after. On the third or fourth day, Stryfe laid down beside him, and Wade closed his eyes against the feeling of repulsion that filled him at the touch of the mutant’s hands.

“I will give you time to adjust,” Stryfe told him. “You will remember you loved me.”

Wade buried his face in the pillow and said, “I never loved you.”

“You will,” Stryfe promised.

Then Wade would sleep, and he would be in the world with Peter. They would be dancing under a mirror ball in a room of tensil, or sharing a pizza at their small table, holding each other after a difficult battle, kissing in the dark in their bed. It was so real while he was sleeping, but would vanish the moment he opened his eyes in the gray world of Stryfe. If those thoughts were memories, then they were as far removed from Wade as if they never existed at all. That world wasn’t here and now. This was the world that Stryfe had made after destroying Apocalypse.

That word--Apocalypse--brought up other images. Strange images of a young boy with black lips and red eyes. Not the monster who destroyed everything, but a kid with a sweet smile and gentle ways. A kid who looked at Wade almost like a father. But he couldn’t remember the name or how this kid was significant. He could only remember Apocalypse had destroyed the world. The kid, whoever he was, was just as irrelevant as the feeble memories of Peter.

After days, maybe even weeks, Wade’s body was starting to heal. His bone-thin arms were starting to fill out a little, though no where close to his usual bulk. The places on his face where bone was exposed had healed over, and his nose no longer looked skeletal. Stryfe had worked to groom him, personally filing down his yellowing fingernails and clipping his toenails. Always bathing with him, an activity that left Wade feeling disgusted with himself. He would close his eyes and try to pretend it was anyone other than the mutant, but his mind would become cloudy and his head would throb, and the only face he could recall was Stryfe.

Loneliness was Wade’s biggest enemy. Had always been his enemy. So many times he had attached himself to people just so he wouldn’t be alone. Deep down, he knew that Stryfe was right. Wade was going to cave to him. There was nobody else. Eventually, his loneliness and his need for human touch would send Wade to Stryfe’s side, there to dwell in the madness of what the mutant called “love”.

***

Maybe two weeks--perhaps a year for all Wade cared--he woke in agony. There was intense pain in his lower abdomen and back that extended up to his chest and down into his thighs. It was a throbbing, constant pain that left him groaning. The intensity reminded him of the all-over pain his cancer sometimes produced. He was nauseous and shivering, and felt intense discomfort in his bowels.

Wade tried to will it away, but the pain only seemed to intensify. He wondered if Stryfe had poisoned him in some gross attempt at forcing further intimacy, to give the mutant an excuse to touch him. The thought made his nausea spike. Shaking, he got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, clutching his stomach. He felt clammy and gross, despite the bath he’d had before going to sleep. Sweat pasted his clothing to his body, and it took more effort than he wanted just to get his shirt off, since his body wanted to double over from the pain. At the same time, his stomach had gone from just being painful to sending him signals that it was time to find a toilet.

That was when Wade saw the blood. There was a smear coating the crotch of his pants, bright red against the white material. For a moment, he froze. True, there were many times in his life that he found blood in his pants, but typically he could recall a reason for it. Often involving rough sex with people who didn’t really care about things like lubricant or conscious consent.

But this… This was different. For one, he was certain that Stryfe hadn’t fucked him. While he was barely phoning in life, he would recall if someone had violated his holy of holies to the point he was bloody.

Also, there was a strange idea coming into his head. It was absurd. Absurd to the point of making everything in him feel like it was imploding a little, because…

Wade reached between his legs, trying to find the source of the injury, only to brush across something that made his body spasm. Suddenly, his mind was flooded with a memory of being on a couch in a small apartment, a mirror in his hand. That memory bled into others that flowed into his head so fast, he felt like he might drown in them. Wanda. Avengers Tower. Peter. Coitus interruptus. Peter. Chocolate in my peanut butter. Kidnapping. Peter. Date night. Jean Grey School. Nate. Wanda. Evan. Stryfe. Clones. Everything. Everyone. It filled his mind so fast it was dizzying. Had he not been seated, Wade probably would have toppled over.

“Holy shit,” he said on a breath. Stryfe. Succeeded. Stryfe had him in his world. Stryfe captured him. When, he still wasn’t clear on. But one thing was crystal fucking clear: He needed to get out. Peter was out there somewhere. Wanda was somewhere. Motherfuckin’ Nate Summers was alive.

He looked at his arms and legs, still thin and weak, and he remembered something else. Remembered being flayed alive by Stryfe, cut and cut until there was nothing left. Fucker knew him, alright. Knew how to make him think his healing factor was fucked. And the last however many days of being depressed and emo had kept him from getting back into his normal shape. But no more.

Wade went to the shower to clean himself up. He washed himself thoroughly. Wanda had mentioned that periods happened, but she’d been under the impression that she would be around him when the first one hit. Goddammit, Wade was a real woman now and there was no one to throw him a First Moon party.

The hot water felt amazing, and it relaxed his back a little bit. Wade made a mental note to send an apology to every girl he ever met, because fucking cramps are the worst and he’d been a dick on too many occasions. Karma was real; periods were the absolute worst.

After the shower, Wade returned to his room, cussing when he realized that every goddamn piece of clothing in the place was white. What kind of a pseudo-messianic asshole had only white clothes? Oh yeah, a pseudo-messianic asshole. Fucking Stryfe didn’t even provide him with underwear. Sure, yeah, he preferred to go commando, but he had a situation.

So Wade improvised, sacrificing a pair of pants to make something that was achingly similar to a diaper. He was pretty sure that at some point he would laugh about this, but the damned thing was uncomfortable and then there was the whole fact that he was bleeding and aching all over inside, and it wasn’t going to stop for a few days.

Wade wanted to cry. But he also wanted to eat a gallon of ice cream while stabbing someone.

After again dressing and stashing his bloodied pants, Wade headed down to the kitchen area. It was midday, so Stryfe was bound to be somewhere around the Tower torturing kittens or eating babies, or whatever the fuck a psychopathic asshole does when he’s not trying to fondle Wade’s ass. He searched around and found the stash of those godawful roots and started eating. Before, he didn’t want to eat because eating meant prolonging life. Meant being alert and awake for things he’d rather not be conscious of. Now, he had a mission. He had to get strong again. Had to get his body back in shape, because one way or another, he was getting the hell away from Stryfe.

Actually, Wade had every intention of killing Stryfe. As he sat on the floor by the pantry crunching the weird not-carrot things, he imagined all the ways that he could pull it off. Though he hadn’t looked too hard, Wade didn’t recall seeing any weapons in his room nor just lying around. The only people who had weapons were the guards, and he doubted they were powerful enough to get through Stryfe’s TK barrier. Then again, Stryfe had to subdue him in order to make him docile enough to come along. A well timed ambush.

Fuck, Wade thought as he crunched into his fifth root-thing. He’d been sloppy. Really sloppy. Just because he was at the X-Mansion, he shouldn’t have let his guard down. Shouldn’t have… Wade growled and took a gulp of water, then got up from his spot on the floor to search out something else to eat.

A soft gasp made him turn around. A small, frail girl was standing just inside the kitchen entrance. She was wearing a drab brown smock and pants, looking gaunt and thin to the point her blue eyes were huge in her eye sockets. There was terror in her eyes as she looked at Wade, trembling so much that she looked like she would shake apart.

“Don’t-- don’t be scared, okay?” Wade said holding up his hands. “What are you doing?”

“I’m j-just here t-to clean,” she stammered out.

“It’s okay,” Wade said. “What’s your name?”

“B-Boak,” she answered.

Wade cocked his head, trying to place the name. It was familiar, and it clicked after a second. “You’re one of the Clan Chosen, right?”

She was practically crying when she said, “Yes.”

“I’m Wade,” he said. “I was a friend of the Askani’son.”

Her voice was barely audible. “You’re the Butcher.”

“So I’ve been told,” Wade said softly. He frowned, looking down at his small mount of root stems, and said, “How about you find me something a little more scrumptious than these roots, and I’ll help you clean?”

She shook her head. “Stryfe will torture me just for talking to you.”

“No he won’t,” Wade said firmly. “I won’t let him do that.”

“He’ll make you do it,” she answered with the authority of someone who’d seen a lot of bad things happen in front of her young eyes. Wade really hated Stryfe now. Despite this, she walked to another pantry and retrieved a box, which she handed to Wade. He opened the lid and found it to be full of something that very much resembled chocolate.

Wade’s jaw dropped, and he said, “Oh, my sweet child. You are an angel sent from Mama Askani herself.”

“Those belong to Stryfe,” Boak said softly, though she looked him in the eyes. Wade knew exactly what she was doing. She was waiting for Wade to strike her down. She was testing him.

Wade smiled, and said, “Good. Means it probably doesn’t taste like shit.” He grabbed one of the treats, and held the box out to her. “You want some?”

She shook her head. “No. I am fasting.”

“Looks like you need to stop,” Wade said as he grabbed another.

“I don’t want to live in a world run by Stryfe,” she said, looking down. “My family is gone. The only thing waiting for me is forced childbirth and death.”

“What happened to the resistance?” Wade asked around a mouthful of chocolate.

Boak was understandably vague. “They’re still out there, but well hidden.”

He nodded, and felt a tingle in his skin. “Better get to work, kid. Daddy’s coming.”

Boak immediately went to work cleaning up Wade’s root scraps. It was a couple minutes before Stryfe entered the kitchen, and by that time, Wade was perched on one of the metal countertops, still blissfully devouring the chocolates.

Stryfe looked at him, a small smile coming to his face. He was dressed in his armor, minus the valkyrie helmet. Wade had a vague memory of him saying something about going out on patrol; reports of some energetic disturbance. He was sweaty. There was dirt and blood splattered on his chest.

“I’m happy to see you are awake,” Stryfe said as he approached. “And hungry.”

Wade looked down at his box of goodies, and gestured towards the pantry door. “Yeah, I decided to go spelunking for something other than rabbit food.”

“You must be feeling better,” Stryfe said, obvious joy in his voice. “Especially to break into my private stores.”

“I didn’t know they were yours,” Wade said, throwing a bit of tremor and wide eyes to make him look genuinely scared.

Stryfe’s hand reached for him, caressing Wade’s upper arm. “You are not going to be punished. Go ahead. Eat your fill. I’m glad to see you have your appetite.” He leaned close and Wade said, “Hopefully your appetite for other things will soon return.”

Wade looked at the floor.

“Join me in the bath,” Stryfe said as his hand fell away. “There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Wade nodded and hopped down from the counter, tucking the box of chocolates under his arm. He followed behind Stryfe, trying to figure out how he could avoid getting in the bath with him, considering he didn’t want to explain his period panties.

Once inside the bath chamber, Stryfe started to remove his gloves and Wade got an idea. He set the box aside, and walked to Stryfe and took over the removal of his gloves. Stryfe watched him as he deftly released the fasteners on his gauntlets, then knelt down to do remove his greaves.

“I have not been very grateful,” Wade said, keeping his eyes down as he stood. “Let me take care of you for once. Say thanks, ya know?”

Stryfe nodded, clearly pleased and held up his arm to allow Wade to continue removing the armor. Wade was methodical about it, keeping his eyes on the clasps and trying to ignore the creepy, hungry look Stryfe was giving him. Maybe this wasn’t his best idea, but it was the only one he had. He was still less than fit, even though he could feel himself metabolizing the food he had devoured. More than likely, Stryfe had killed him a few times before allowing him to come back. Otherwise, he would not have been in such shitty shape. He’d been tortured enough to know his body's reactions. And now that he had his memories back, he could recognize all the signs and symptoms.

Stryfe had played him. Wade didn’t like being played.

Once the armor was gone, Stryfe removed the under clothes and stepped into the hot water, motioning for Wade to join him. Instead, Wade rolled up the legs of his pants and sat on the edge of the tub behind Stryfe with a sponge and a bar of soap.

“Told you, I want to take care of you,” Wade said, imagining twenty different ways to kill the bastard with the implements in the room. He lathered up the sponge and started rubbing soap over Stryfe’s massive shoulders.

Stryfe immediately relaxed, and leaned back between Wade’s legs, resting his head against the merc’s stomach. “Rebels are causing problems on the city’s border. The Tower detected an energy spike. They’re planning an attack, I am certain.”

“Shouldn’t worry you,” Wade said as he soaped up the upper part of Stryfe’s chest, his eyes going to the throbbing pulse in the mutant’s bared neck. “I mean, all these guards…”

“You,” Stryfe said with the start of a smile. “They fear you, beloved. Always have.”

Wade winced internally. “Guess they’ve heard the Butcher is back.”

“Will you finish them for me?” Stryfe asked. “You always enjoyed hunting them.”

“You got more of those chocolates?” Wade asked with a grin.

Stryfe laughed, a big hearty sound. “Anything you want, beloved.”

 **  
**Wade laughed too, because the moment a blade was in his hand, Stryfe’s head was coming off.


	24. No Place Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 722 Avengers arrive in Stryfe's world, and Nate has some deja vu.

The moment the vertigo of passing through the universal medium passed, Nate was greeted with the familiar sight of a world destroyed by Apocalypse and ruled by Stryfe. There was a certain smell that these hellish places had. Burnt rubble with a touch of rot. In short, it smelled like home, and it really made his skin crawl.

Wanda walked up beside him, and asked, “Anything look familiar.”

“Everything,” he answered, glancing her direction. Then he nodded towards the glowing horizon. “The citadel will be on the other side of these hills. Probably three or fours hours walking. If this is anything like what I’m used to, there will be guards. Lots of them.”

Stark nodded. “Do you think aerial reconnaissance will be possible?”

“Not unless you want to be seen,” Nate answered. He closed his eyes, reaching out as far as he could with his telepathy. After a minute, he said, “Keep your sensors keyed to searching for mines and traps. Now we need to move. We don’t want to be outside when the sun’s up.”

“What happens if we’re out when the sun’s up?” Evan asked.

“Radiation poisoning,” Nate answered, looking down at Evan. He looked at Natasha and Clint, and said, “Do you have training in this kind of environment?”

“I’m Russian,” was Natasha’s answer.

It seemed to satisfy Nate. “Then scout ahead. Keep your eye out for people wearing the X-symbol. Those will be the Askani, and they’re friendly. Mostly.”

With Nate leading the way, the group headed out into the wasteland that Stryfe ruled. Thor looked particularly disturbed by everything he saw, his frown deepening with each step until he said, “I never imagined that Asgard would abandon this world.”

“If it is anything like what happened in my time, we made you leave,” Nate said stiffly. “It was Apocalypse that caused it all. He united all mutants, and in turn united humanity against us. In the end, humanity almost killed itself off with nukes and biological warfare. None of us deserved to be saved. No divine intervention was warranted. There are no gods here.”

“Aye.” Thor nodded, looking sad. “But there is one here now.”

Nate flickered a smile, then his face turned to stone as they continued their trek. Their progress was slow due to the abundance of ordinance and obstacles to be traversed. Tony complained about being stuck on the ground, which made Falcon roll his eyes and the General just smiled.

Wanda kept to the back of the group with Evan in front of her. The kid was absorbing the world around him, a look of deep consternation on his face. This was a potential future for their home, a very stark warning of what could happen should he make the wrong decisions. The trouble was, as Wanda knew very well, sometimes the worst decisions could be made with the best of intentions.

There was part of Wanda that was caught up in thinking about her Nate growing up in a world like this. He’d told her a few stories about it, but a lot of it he didn’t like to talk about, even though he had managed to completely alter that future. It was always the curse of the ones who changed history to remember what happened before. Then she looked at Nate 616, knowing that he had fought the same battles, knowing that his fight with Apocalypse had never really ended.

Knowing that the person who could perpetuate his eternal war was walking with them.

Wanda had to force herself to stay on target. As the Celestial ship came into view, the very top of it’s alabastar exterior gleaming with the first light of dawn, Wanda started singing softly, “Six o'clock tv hour, don't get caught in foreign towers. Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn. Locking in, uniforming, book-burning, blood-letting. Every motive escalate, automotive incinerate. Light a…”

“Wanda?” Evan said, cutting off her song.

Wanda jogged up next to him. “Yes?”

“Shouldn’t we be quiet?” he asked, eyes scanning around warily.

Wanda shrugged. “Don’t see the point right now. Someone’s been trailing us for about an hour.”

Evan stepped closer. “Shouldn’t we…”

Wanda put a hand on his shoulder. “Evan. Buddy. Trust me on this, okay? If they were going to hurt us, they would have done it. If they were going to report our position, they already did. So, just keep doing what you’ve been doing. Keep your shields up, keep your mind focused, and I’ll keep acting like nothing is happening.”

Evan nodded, and walked ahead. He noticed then that Tony’s repulors were charged. Thor had Mjolnir in his hand rather than hanging from his belt. Falcon’s guns were in his hands rather than slung on his shoulders. Nate’s massive gun was charged. The Avengers were on alert. So he did as Wanda suggested, focusing his energy on increasing his personal force field and debating on whether or not he should transform.

“It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I. Feel. Fiiiiine,” Wanda sang as they walked down into a rubble field that was ideal for an ambush.

Right on cue, the area was flooded with soldiers clad in mismatched and broken armor. Their weapons were too rudimentary to be of celestial design. The Avengers went into defensive positions, but Nate held up a hand and shouted in the Askani language, “Don’t fire!”

***

It took some negotiations, but the Avengers soon found themselves in the rebel camp. The group wasn’t very big, wasn’t well provisioned, but they were hearty to say the least. Wanda realized that Nate’s bulk wasn’t the result of his genes and everything to do with the lifestyle of the Askani. They were rough, scarred, and weathered, all with the same hard look that Nate 616 had in his eyes.

These rebels were here on a mission, the vangard of a massive assault. According to sources inside the citadel, the one they called the Butcher had returned. At first, Wanda thought they were talking about Stryfe, considering he’d been off playing in other realms. Then she realized they were talking about Wade.

Their leader, a woman named Dawnsilk, told them that the Butcher was killed years ago by Stryfe. It was not widely known why their world’s Deadpool turned on Stryfe, since they had ruled the world together in every sense. The Butcher was the hammer that knocked down the rebellion, and in his absence, the rebels have again gained a foothold.

“Our sources in the citadel say that this new Butcher is weak and resentful of his master,” Dawnsilk said with a smirk. “But we all know of Styfe’s ability to turn those who defy him into those who serve him. It is only a matter of time until the Butcher again coats this world in blood.”

She looked at Nate, and said, “Now returns the Askani’son to aid us at the moment we need him. It does feel like the hand of the Mother is on us.”

“I am not from your universe,” Nate said flatly. “I am not a savior. I’m here to kill Stryfe and save my friend.”

“But you bring Apocalypse with you,” she said, her eyes flicking to Evan. “In your world, is Apocalypse a friend? Is he here to undo the evil of his kin?”

“I’m sorry for what happened to your world,” Evan said softly. Suddenly all eyes were on him. He swallowed hard. “My world’s not like this, and I never want it to be like this. But I’ve been told by my teachers and by my mentors that even good intentions could cause this kind of destruction. I don’t know what your Apocalypse’s intentions were. I don’t know why he did this. I just know that this isn’t what I want. And if I can help you stop Stryfe and reclaim your world, I’ll do everything I can.”

Dawnsilk studied him for a moment, then said, “I guess only time will tell.”

Outside the camp, the sky was erupting in brown, dismal rain. The world went from smelling like burnt plastic to smelling like sulfuric burnt plastic, with just a hint of pee. Wanda wandered around the interior of the building, looking at the graffiti and trying to place her Nate in a world like this. Most of the rebels were young, not much older than Evan with the exception of their leader. And these people were in essence special forces. She hated to think about how ragtag the rest of their army had to be.

Wanda found a nice patch of comfortable rubble and sat down, pulling out her sword and a whetstone to sharpen the already flawless blade. It wasn’t long before footsteps approached, and she turned to see Nate as he knelt down to pick up a rusty round object that looked like some kind of gun part.

“I used to collect these,” he said softly.

Wanda snorted. “Why?”

“We recycled everything we could,” he answered as he dusted off the object. “This is part of a reactor core. A slightly more advanced version of Tony’s chest piece. Built on his technology.” He scanned the ground and spotted another piece. After a cursory cleaning, he put the two together, and the center of the object had a slight glow. “All this needs is the focusing crystal.”

“What is it? A lightsaber?” Wanda asked with a smirk.

“No,” Nate answered as he sat beside her. Thunder boomed, and Wanda looked up towards the ceiling. She asked, “Is this what it was like for you?”

He nodded. “Probably wasn’t much different for your Nathan.”

“He told me he watched the stars,” Wanda said, setting aside her blade. “This whole world seems so dead, I have a hard time imagining there being time to watch the stars.”

“Not watch, really.” Nate leaned against a support beam, and said, “You have to know to stars to navigate. You don’t go out during the day. Not unless there’s clouds, and only if it’s not gonna rain. This stuff… It eats your gear and burns your skin.”

“I hope it clears soon,” Wanda said, looking towards the exit. “I hate to think what Stryfe might be doing to Wade.”

Nate nodded. “I’ve seen what happened to Wade in the future of my world. How time had…” He shook his head. “I wanted to put him out of his misery.”

“What happened?”

“He saved me and Hope,” Nate answered with a sigh. “Gave us time to escape while Stryfe… Stryfe ripped him in half. After hundreds of years, his healing factor stopped working.”

Wanda smiled.

Nate’s brow scrunched. “What?”

She shrugged. “Just makes me happy to know there’s an end.”

“Kind of a dismal way to look at things,” Nate said, sitting up straighter.

She laughed. “And you’re the authority on sunshine and happiness?”

“Point taken.” He cleared his throat and stood, listening. “Weather’s moving on. Probably another hour and we’ll be out of here.”

“I’ll be ready,” Wanda said as she took up her sword and stood. After a moment, she said, “I’ve got a question, might be kind of strange. But, how many times have you had to kill Stryfe?”

“Too many,” Nate answered.

Wanda smirked. “Mind giving someone else the honor?”

Nate didn’t answer, instead he walked back to where the rebels were preparing their gear. She was too busy staring at him to realize that Natasha was now standing beside her. Then again, Natasha was sneaky.

“When we get home,” Natasha said, making Wanda jump a little. “You and me are doing some serious spa treatments. I’ll never get the smell of this place out of my boots.”

Wanda nodded. “Sounds like a plan. We should go to that one next to the gun shop.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Nat tested her tasers, and said, “Also, I beat your time in Injustice.”

“You know this means war,” Wanda said as she sheathed her katana.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, and said, “It’s always been war.”

“So that’s how you are. Okay, fine,” Wanda said with a laugh. “Oh, by the way, I annihilated your kill count in Rainbow Six.”

“Is that the My Little Pony game?” Nat said with a smirk.

Wanda shook her head. “You’re gonna make Clint cry, you know that right? Do you know how difficult my world becomes when you make Clint cry? Because it’s a disaster. All the tissues and arrow holes in my walls, not to mention that the man downs ice cream like a teenage girl in crisis mode.”

“You talking about me again?” Clint asked as he dropped down out of the ceiling.

Nat’s smirk was almost a smile. Almost. “Just talking about making you cry.”

Clint frowned, then pointed a thumb towards the rebels, and said, “They’re getting ready to move out. Storm’s almost over. They want to breach the citadel before midnight.”

“They afraid we’re all gonna turn into pumpkins or something?” Wanda asked.

“Guess that’s when Stryfe does his bath thing with Wade,” Clint said, his face twisted in a frown. “This guy sounds like a real creep.”

“Understatement,” Wanda said. “He forced his way into my dreams and replaced Nate with himself.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “So I guess that means you’ve got dibs on killing him.”

 **  
**Wanda’s tone was severe. “You bet your ass I do.”


	25. A Ghost of Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter takes action with an unexpected ally.

Peter had never felt so useless in his entire life than he did standing on the landing pad watching the Quinjet leave with Iron Man, Falcon, Hawkeye, Black Widow and a bunch of junior heroes he’d never even heard of---who all apparently knew him. (Nova? The fuck?). They were following a lead on the location of the still missing Captain America, Wolverine, and Thor, but would tell Peter nothing else.

His memory was still gone for the most part, though he did remember becoming Spiderman. He also remembered Uncle Ben and Gwen’s death. He remembered mourning for them, and that pain was still very near to the surface now.

And he remembered Deadpool. He remembered being ripped from the back of a car and thrown over the side of the Brooklyn Bridge. What he absolutely could not fathom was the idea of falling in love with such a lunatic. May insisted that they were, in fact, in love. Knowing that Wade had spent time at his home with his Aunt--even apparently doing things like shopping with her without his supervision--was almost appalling.

With his memory as faulty as it was, Peter often entertained the thought that they were messing with him. Tony Stark was a notorious figure in his mind, known for weapons manufacturing rather than as a hero. Surely he made it up, right?

“As much as I’d like to pretend that your relationship with that psychopath is all an illusion, it’s not,” is what Stark said. Followed by a heavy sigh and a frown, and finally, “You love him. And it’s confusing and weird, but to be honest, I’m almost jealous.”

Peter had balked at that. “Jealous? Of Deadpool?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging. “He’s completely devoted to you, and you were very happy with him. I’ve never been happy with anyone, Parker. Not even myself.”

And that was the end of the subject. Tony left Peter’s room, and Peter spent the next couple hours trying to force his mind to remember. Because there was a picture, just one. It was taken by Aunt May last year at Thanksgiving. The two of them are sitting close, looking at each other with complete adoration. May said it was the only picture she had of the two of them together because Wade hates having his picture taken.

Her reactions were the strangest. How could she like someone like that? Even after Peter had angrily shouted, “He’s a mercenary, Aunt May! He. Kills. People. For. Money. He’s a psychopath. He’s insane. He has voices in his head. And did I mention he’s a murderer?”

May just shook her head, and said, “When you get your memory back, you’re going to feel like an asshole for saying such things.”

“It’s true,” Peter insisted.

That was when May laid down the ultimate bombshell. She said, “I know, Peter. I’ve known since I first met him. I recognized him from when he was on TV with Nathan Summers in Providence. It was big news a while back when the two of them divorced. Doesn’t take a genius to put together that Wade Wilson is Deadpool, since the two were always together and Summers really liked to be on camera.”

“And you’re fine with that? You’ve always been fine with that?” Peter asked.

“Yes,” she answered sternly. She smiled, and said, “I’m not going to say that he’s perfect, but he has a good heart. And honestly, the way you talk about him, I have no idea how you two really managed to fall in love with each other.”

Peter shook his head, and said, “There’s something I can at least agree with.”

Now, alone on the landing zone, Peter wished that someone could make sense to him. Anyone. There were things that hinted that they were telling the truth, like Peter’s dreams of a scarred man, and the way he always woke up reaching for someone who wasn’t there. But...Deadpool?

He thought about Gwen. Beautiful, brave Gwen, and had to wonder how shitty his life had to have become to settle for someone like Wade Wilson.

Peter was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the doors open nor realize that there was someone standing behind him until he turned around and flinched coming face to face with a long-haired man with a metal arm.

“I need your help,” he said by way of introduction.

Peter took a step back. “Uh, who are you?”

“My name’s James Barnes, but most call me Bucky.” His words were curled by a subtle accent that twisted his English. Like he’d spent a long time abroad. He looked out towards the city, and said, “I’ve received some intelligence from a trusted source, but the Avengers refused to act on it. They don’t trust me. But I’m not going to stay here in the Tower while my best friend is being held captive or killed.”

“Why don’t they trust you?” Peter asked hesitantly.

“The same reason they don’t trust you,” he answered. “My mind has been tampered with.”

Peter nodded, knowing the annoyance. “Okay, so what do you propose?”

“You’re Spiderman. You travel around the city using buildings. I need you to take me to a place called Hayden Cleaners in Queens.” Then Bucky reached into a pouch on his vest, producing Peter’s web shooters. “We need to leave now. We have approximately one minute before the security system comes back online.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “You disabled the security system of Avengers Tower?”

“45 seconds,” was his response.

“I don’t have my costume. My mask--”

Bucky handed him a black mask and said, “This will work for now. Thirty seconds.”

Peter shrugged and pulled the mask over his face, slipped the shooters on his wrist and grabbed Bucky, and said, “Geronimo.”

Then they were off swinging through the city. Peter knew his way across town. It was clear in his head exactly which buildings were around the corner, which turns to make, which way guaranteed the quickest route to Queens, where he grew up. This city was in his blood, and as he swung he couldn’t help but have vague memories of someone else hanging onto his back while swinging across town.

Bucky directed him to a building, and to a window that was rigged to be opened from the outside. Peter expected to see an office, but they stepped into a bedroom. The bed was neatly made, and his eyes settled on the nightstand that was topped by a Spiderman alarm clock with a tube of lube sitting beside it. There were clothes in a basket, including a red and black corset that lay on top. A pair of large high heels were sitting at the end of the bed.

Peter had an odd feeling that he should recognize this room. He looked at Bucky and said, “Where are we?”

“Your apartment,” he answered. “I figured you’d have equipment you’d like to pick up.”

“My…” He trailed off, his eyes settling on a picture on the wall. It was a neatly matted and framed cityscape, taken from the side of the Empire State building. He remembered it, because he took the picture and won a photography contest with it. He squinted around the room, and said, “This is my apartment?”

Peter walked to the closet and opened the door to find it full of clothes, both his and another mans. Maybe a womans, too, because of the abundance of dresses hanging to one end of the bar. Lots of red and black. Then he pushed the clothing aside, and noticed a seam in the wall. It took a moment to figure out the mechanism, but after feeling around he found a neatly disguised latch, and the seam opened to reveal what Peter could only call an arsenal.

There were so many guns, ranging from small handguns to assault rifles. Also knives and swords, brass knuckles that said “DEAD” on one and “POOL” on the other. There were also suits. Several were Deadpool’s, but a lot of them were Spiderman’s.

Peter stepped back and looked at Bucky. Confused, he said, “We really live together?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. You do. Now get your gear. Time’s wasting.”

“Just wait,” Peter said, noticing something down in the bottom of the hidden area. It was a single-subject notebook with a piece of masking tape on the cover that said “Wade W”. It was worn, obviously something that the merc had handled often. Peter sat on the end of the bed and opened the cover and saw that it was full of drawings, mostly doodles in black ink. It was very cartoonish, depicting Deadpool doing various things--scaling buildings, fighting ninjas, throwing around what looked like symbiote dinosaurs. As Peter flipped the pages, he realized that he was included in several of them, and featured more and more prominently as he made his way towards the back of the book. The last few drawings were of Deadpool holding Spiderman’s hand, or the two kissing in an alley over someone webbed into a cocoon.

The very last drawing was of them leaning against each other, sitting on the edge of a building. There was a series of things written above Deadpool’s head that had all been crossed out. _Why does he love me? Is this really happening? I hope this is really happening. I love you, Spidey._

Then above Spidey’s head was a speech bubble that said, “Stop thinking. I love you, Wade.” Those words were written in Peter’s handwriting. There was a vague memory that popped into Peter’s head, more of a feeling than a memory, of taking the pen from Wade’s hand and writing the words after watching the merc write and cross out each line. He tried to hold onto that memory, but it faded the harder he tried to cling.

Bucky was looking at him, and that was when Peter realized that he had tears running down his face. He wiped them away and said, “I don’t understand.”

“Part of you remembers,” Bucky said softly. “That part is missing someone you can’t remember. It’s like seeing a ghost, but a ghost of yourself.”

Peter looked back at the drawing. _Stop thinking. I love you, Wade_.

He closed the book and went back to the closet to grab his costume. Bucky was right. Time was wasting.

***

Hayden Cleaners was only a few blocks away from the apartment. Peter landed softly on the roof and cocked his head, and asked, “Why would you need to come here? Do you have a secret army of maids?”

Bucky gave him a funny look, and said, “This is a front. Come on.”

They walked to the roof door, and Bucky unlocked it with a code. Three floors down, they encountered their first person. A sort of lanky fellow with blond hair. His face split in a smile, and he gasped, “Mr. Parker! I’m so happy to see you.”

That made Peter raise an eyebrow. “Who are you?”

The man’s eyes went wide. “So it’s true! I figured Tony was lying about the whole memory thing.”

“Tony Stark?” Peter asked.

“No. Tony Masters.” He held out his hand, and said, “I’m Bob. We actually know each other.”

Peter shook his hand reluctantly, then followed Bob and Bucky down a couple more flights of stairs to a meeting room where there were several more people waiting. Some of them Peter actually recognized, like Tony Masters, who Peter knew better as Task Master. There was another in the room who looked a lot like Wade, except for not as scarred. Or at least, differently scarred. And just about everyone knew Crazy Inez, otherwise known as Outlaw.

Mercenaries. It was a room full of mercenaries. Peter was in a room full of mercenaries, and they all knew him by his first name and seemed to know that he was Spiderman. This was not a turn of events that he was prepared for. Not at all. But it was Bucky who brought him here, and he looked at his travelling companion.

“What are we doing here?” Peter asked in a hushed tone.

Bucky gave him a narrow-eyed look and walked over to Tony Masters. It was Bob who answered the question. “When you guys went to the Jean Grey School, Wanda asked me to stay here to keep tabs on your movements in case anything strange happened.”

“Wanda?” Peter asked, getting more confused.

“Wade’s sort of twin sister,” Bob answered. Then he continued, “Anyway, Wanda and Wade both have a tracking device on them, something they wanted after they were kidnapped the first time. The first night you were gone, the signals suddenly jumped to a location in a remote location in Canada. After some recon, we determined that the location a base, potentially a former part of the Weapon X program.”

Peter tried to absorb all of this, and said, “Weapon X? Like… Like Wolverine?”

Bob nodded. “Yes, Mr. Parker. Now, we tried to relay this information to the Avengers, but no one was taking our calls.”

“So how did Bucky…” Peter asked.

Tony Masters answered, “I’m his Accountabil-a-buddy.”

Peter shook his head. “His what?”

“It’s part of Steve Roger’s program to reform us villainous types,” Masters answered. “We all have someone who’s going through the same stuff that we can call when we’re having trouble or feeling the urge to go back to our old ways. Bucky is my buddy. And I sent him a message to let him know what I know. Now you’re here.” He smirked and said, “As Wade would say, is that enough exposition?”

Peter looked at Bucky, and said, “I thought you said the Avengers didn’t trust you because you had your memory tampered with?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. By HYDRA. I was an assassin for 75 years. They called me the Winter Soldier.”

Peter’s jaw went slack. “You were a HYDRA agent?”

“So was Bob,” Bucky answered.

Masters said, “We’re leaving in five minutes. Are you in?”

Peter laughed, and said, “Might as well, right?”

A few minutes later, as they were boarding Task Master’s private stealth jet, Peter had a moment of questioning his sanity. He was in a plane full of HYDRA agents and mercenaries, off on a journey to rescue Deadpool. He wondered what would happen when he saw Wade. Would he suddenly remember everything? Would he be repulsed? What if Wade was dead? What would he feel? Would he feel anything?

Unexpected tears again fell from his eyes.

 


	26. *AN UPDATE THAT IS NOT AN UPDATE*

Hello readers!! This is me breaking through the 4th Wall to let you know I'll be back posting this story next week. My world got swept up into a mess of family drama, travelling, and general inability to get to my computer for longer than a few minutes a day. Thus, no writing except for in my lovely notebook that is full to bursting with things that need to be typed. 

Now that I'm back home and things are moderately calm, I'm taking a day to unwind and be back to posting regularly by Sunday/Monday. 

Sorry for the delay. 

Love and kisses,

Le SedatedKoala


	27. The Throne Room - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade takes steps to escape, and finds something unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear sweet merciful Zeus, this update has been delayed FOREVER!!
> 
> I figured I'd say it before anyone else.
> 
> Sorry. Life became hectic. Then I decided I needed to take a break from technology and writing and work on getting my world back on track. It took some time, but I'm finally back in the game with my head clear and my muse sitting blithly on my desk telling me to WRITE!! WRITE!! WRITE!!
> 
> The next chapter is almost finished. You will not be waiting a month and a half for another update. 
> 
> Again, sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy. :)

Wade woke thankfully alone. The night before had been...bad. Bad in ways that meant it was going to be hard to make eye contact with Peter maybe ever again. Stryfe had devoured Wade’s attention eagerly, and his reciprocation turned into much more than Wade was able to adequately defend against. In the end, the only thing that saved Wade from certain defilement was his distinct inability to get even remotely hard.

Stryfe (thankfully) took it as a sign that Wade needed more food and rest, and spent the rest of the evening feeding him and coddling him. Also, cuddling him. Making Wade sit in his lap, kissing the merc’s neck and massaging his thighs. Wade hated it, but knew that he wasn’t strong enough to do a damn thing about it. All he could do was think about Peter, and try to imagine scenarios in which he would be forgiven for letting this happen.

Though, Wade could not feel bad about enjoying the back massage. Cramps are evil.

 

After changing his makeshift period panties, Wade dressed in a fresh set of annoyingly white clothes. He was pleasantly surprised to see just how much he had filled out overnight. Obviously Stryfe’s feeding had done the trick to kick his healing factor into high gear. His ribs were hidden behind thick muscle. His arms no longer appeared skeletal. Not only that, he was strong too. Moving didn’t feel like an effort like it did the day before.

Which is how he ended up in the armory with a stack of unconscious guards bound and gagged in the corner. It took a little more effort than Wade was used to when it came to dispatching low-grade minions, but it felt good to get his blood pumping again. Stryfe was gone, out doing his daily survey of his domaine or whatever the fuck Mr. Touchy McToucherson did when he wasn’t trying to stick his hand down Wade’s pants.

Considering the effort that it took to get into the armory and the amount of guards that kept telling him, “You’re not allowed in there!”, Wade was overall disappointed with what he found inside. Sure, there were your run of the mill energy weapons, but they were not the type of impressive armaments that he imagined finding in the armory of the Tower that used to be Apocalypse’s ship. He expected big hulking things like the guns that Nate always lugged around--even if Wade wasn’t exactly the Hulk-type to actually be able to wield such unwieldy things.

The real problem was the low power output. These weapons weren’t the kind that would take down someone like Stryfe. Stryfe, who had telekinetic barriers and armor, who probably made sure that his minions could never be armed well enough to kill him.

What Wade really needed was his own weapons. Swords, specifically. TK might block bullets, but it was shit against blades. Bullets, while faster, were predictable. And Wade was anything but predictable even to people who studied his fighting. Tony Masters, the great and powerful, could never come close to mimicking him. Stryfe might be able to throw him back with TK, but if Wade can get close enough to cut, the mutant wouldn’t stand a chance.

Wade also knew that Stryfe was exceptionally sentimental about his world’s Deadpool, considering the insane lengths he went to acquire a doppelganger. Which meant that somewhere in this vast tower of many levels and rooms, there would be some of this other Wade’s equipment.  

After gathering what weapons and equipment he could, Wade departed the armory in the uniform of one of the guards. It was a bit snug on his larger frame, but covered him so that he was indistinguishable from the rest and would allow him to move without hindrance.

Due to the daily walks that Stryfe insisted upon, Wade had a pretty good mental map of the Tower. Though he had only been on a few of the many floors, Wade could extrapolate what the rest of the floorplan was like. Most of it was unoccupied and in ruins from old battles and conflicts dating from the time of Apocalypse. Once upon a time there were thousands of soldiers inside the former spacecraft, but now the force was reduced to less than 200.

Outside there was a storm brewing and building. There was an odor in the air, a stinking filthy kind of precipitation that streaked the narrow windows with yellow-brown rivulets. This world, and everything in it, was dying. Wade could feel it. It reminded him of that silent place where all of his multiverse counterparts had perished in their frenzy to end their immortality. Only those who have walked in desolation would know the scent and sight of a doomed place. And this place was doomed now, even if Stryfe was removed from the picture.

Knowing this made Wade feel hollow. He thought about Boak, and how resigned she was to the fact that her life was meant for suffering. Part of him, a very dark part of him, thought it would be best to kill everyone here and get it over with. Why prolong the agony? Why do anything at all…

A small voice in his mind whispered, _Peter would be very disappointed_.

Tears suddenly stung Wade’s eyes. What would Peter think about what he’s done here? Killing aside, Wade had willingly touched Stryfe. Sure, it was because he needed to stall the mutant. But still, he’d massaged the bastard. He’d let Stryfe kiss him. And even if it was just an act, Wade had returned the gesture. Wade had participated.

Peter was going to be more than disappointed.

Wade took a deep breath and tried to push the thought out of his head, and continued his search. Here and there were signs of traffic going out of the main halls. Pathways where the tiles shone brighter than the rest. Wade imagined that wherever Stryfe kept the other Deadpool’s things would be a place that only he traveled, thus he looked for a path that was used but not overly used.

His search led him in circles, finding empty rooms and dusty corridors, along with rooms that stunk from the rain pouring through blast holes in the wall. Now and then, Wade found fragments of skeletons dressed in the tattered remains of their uniforms. Some clearly died in battle. Others appeared to have taken their own lives. Wade had seen enough death to know the difference.

After a few hours, Wade was about to give up. He’d made his way to the upper levels, and knew that eventually the guards--who were still bound and gagged in the armory--would be noticed to be missing. Soon he would be pursued.

Wade started back to the lifts, but froze in his tracks, immediately bringing the laser rifle to his shoulder as the lift door opened. He expected another guard. Maybe even Stryfe himself. Instead...

“Boak?” Wade said softly.

The girl jumped, nearly dropping the liquid-filled pouch she carried in her arms. Her eyes widened before she gasped, “What are you doing here!”

Wade removed the black cowl that hid his face, and said, “What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were the cleaner.”

“I…” She looked at the way he was dressed, then said, “You’re not supposed to be up here.”

That made him perk up. “Why? What’s up here I’m not supposed to know about?”

“I can’t tell you,” Boak said, her back pressing against the now closed lift doors. “You’re not supposed to know. Stryfe will hurt me if you know.”

Wade cocked his head, feeling like he had to have missed something important. “The only thing I know is that Stryfe’s weapons cache is sad and this whole tower is a shithole. Why are you panicking?”

“I’m not panicking,” she said, her breath shallow and eyes dilated in fear.

Wade shook his head. “Kid, I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not going to let Stryfe hurt you. I told you that already. Now, tell me what you are doing up here.”

Tears were welling in her eyes. “I’m… I’m here to replenish the sarcophagus.”

That caught Wade’s attention. Apocalypse’s sarcophagus was well known. It was a regeneration chamber, designed to keep the mutant in stasis for eons. Cable told him about the properties of the Celestial device, mainly in relation to Nate’s own never ending battle with The First One.

“Take me to it,” Wade said, his voice having an edge that made Boak flinch.

The girl immediately started walking, going down a corridor that Wade had already traversed, going to the end of the hall to what appeared to be a blank wall, which opened when Boak said something in the Askani language.  Inside was a cavernous chamber--the Throne Room.

“Holy shit,” Wade whispered as he walked inside, his footsteps echoing through the vast, empty room. There was a vague memory of this place in the back of Wade’s rewritten memory. A room that was filled with the trappings of a Celestial king, a god among mutants. But this room in this world was more like a tomb.

Boak led him up the steps to where once long ago En Sabah Nur ruled the world, and through another set of hidden doors.

Wade’s face brightened, seeing a tattered red uniform. “Bingo!”

He rushed inside, finding not just one uniform, but many. Including one made of the same type of metal that made Stryfe’s armor. And the weapons. Dear Lord, the weapons were amazing. These were guns he was looking for. They were the giant Celestial made crowd-killers designed to be carried on the shoulders of giant men with no necks. There were glowing buttons and power output selectors that would make any gamer feel like all dreams have come true.

“By the power of Grayskull,” Wade gasped upon seeing the swords. They sat in a display along with a few very aged handguns. The blades were carved with runes and strange characters that Wade had never seen before. When he lifted them from their resting place, the metal hummed in his hands.

He waved both in a quick flourish, and the blade sang as they sliced through the air. Wade couldn’t help the bubble of laughter. “Hell, yeah. Daddy like.”

Boak stood stoically to the side of another door, looking at Wade with the same fear as before. When he looked at her, she said, “You should leave now.”

Wade deftly slipped the blades into his back scabbard, and said, “Sorry, sister. I’m here for the premium tour. Let’s see what’s behind door number 3.”

“If you wish,” Boak said as she turned and took a deep breath.

At first, Wade thought that breath taken and held because of nerves. A moment later, the scent of death and rot hit his nostrils making him grimace and fight the urge to gag as he followed the girl into the room.

The floor was sticky, and each step made a squishing sound as he trod across a viscous slime that flowed from the valves of the sarcophagus at the center of the room. Other than the slime, there was also what looked like chunks of rotting meat that lay in piles against the wall, some of it turned to ooze while others had dried to jerky. There was a table, like a medical examination table, but it was streaked with blood.

After the initial shock of it all, Wade realized that this was the room where he woke. The smell was the main clue, but he could also see the marks through the filth where he had fallen from the examination table.

Wade turned to the sarcophagus where Boak was undoing the clasps that held the lid in place. With a hiss, it opened. Even from across the room, Wade could see that it was occupied by a body. The body was covered in crude stitches, as if it had been sewn together from many pieces.

His. Pieces.

Wade leaned over the body, an indefinable dread filling his heart upon seeing his face stitched onto another body. And it was his face. Wade may not be a fan of mirrors, but he knew what he looked like. He recalled how he could feel bare bone when he first awoke, and knew it wasn’t decay that put him in that state. He had suspected it before, but seeing the reality of what happened to him while he was incapacitated…

“He’s insane,” Wade whispered.

A heartbeat later, the other’s eyes opened.

 


	28. The Throne Room - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade takes action.

Wade jumped back, letting out an undignified squeak as he jerked Boak away from the sarcophagus. He waited, expecting to see this Frankenstein’s Deadpool sit up or attack. Instead, it just lay still, milky eyes staring blankly at the grimy ceiling. Unblinking. Unseeing. Dead.

Boak sighed, and said, “He’s not alive.”

“How do you know?” Wade said, stepping closer to the stink of the sarcophagus. “I’ve seen what my body parts can do in a trash-bag. This is Apocalypse’s healing tube thingy.”

“It doesn’t work,” Boak said. “Not after Apocalypse died.”

“I’ve only seen fresh corpses do the eye thing though,” Wade said, still eyeing the body. He then gestured to the empty bag of nutrients, and said, “Something’s happening with that stuff, right?”

“It keeps him from completely deteriorating,” Boak answered. “Before Stryfe started working on him with your parts, he was nothing but skin over bones. Now, he’s stuffed full of your organs and stinks worse than ever.”

Wade grimaced. He was getting damned tired of being an organ donor. He shook his head, and said, “Poor bastard.”

For a minute, Wade studied the lifeless amalgamation of parts and pieces. He thought about Stryfe watching Butler’s people work on all those poor bastards Wade met at the school. He wondered if there was even anyone alive at the school. So much death and destruction, all because of one lunatic’s desire to raise the dead. With a shaking hand, Wade closed the other’s eyes and left the room.

 

Boak followed, keeping her distance from him, going around the perimeter of the Throne Room as she said, “He changed towards the end.”

Wade looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“He didn’t want to hurt people,” Boak said softly, her voice almost swallowed up by the empty room. “It’s why he’s dead.”

Wade’s jaw tensed. “Stryfe killed him because he--”

“No,” Boak interrupted. “He killed himself.”

That sent a chill run through Wade’s body. How many times had he attempted the same thing? How many times had his brains ended up splattered on a wall? How many times had he flung himself in front of a train or intentionally infuriated the Hulk to be pounded into mush? But this Deadpool lived long enough to finally make it happen, and that thought made Wade feel incredibly sad and strangely relieved.

The memories of this other Deadpool were still in Wade’s head, albeit faded. He remembered murdering families. Children. Innocent people, all at the command of Stryfe. And worse, he remembered torturing them, dismembering them. His mind was not his own, not back then. But something changed. Something happened. A moment of clarity. A break from the reality that Stryfe imposed. The actual moment of death, though, was missing from his mind--probably by Stryfe’s design.

“I know what you want to do,” Boak said, bringing Wade out of his thoughts.

Wade looked at her. “What’s that?”

“You want to kill Stryfe,” Boak said matter-of-factly. And added with resignation, “You won’t succeed. No one can kill him.”

“I haven’t tried yet,” Wade said defiantly. “And even if I fail, I have a pretty damned fast respawn rate. I may be a giant idiot, but I learn from my mistakes. I’ve learned a lot in just the last few days. So don’t count me out yet, kid.”

Boak frowned, and said, “You need to go. Stryfe will be back soon. You don’t want to be missing when he gets here. He can’t know you were here.”

Wade nodded and said, “Okay, kid. Don’t worry.” He started towards the doors, then paused and asked, “Do you have somewhere safe to hide? You know, in case there ends up being a big fight.”

“Nothing is safe here,” Boak answered as she turned towards the window where the sky was beginning to lighten with the passing of the storm. “I’ll stay here. Stryfe hasn’t come here since you woke.”

Though Wade didn’t want to consider the possibility of failure or what it could mean, Wade said, “If I don’t succeed, you probably shouldn’t be here.”

“If you don’t succeed, I’d rather be dead,” she answered.

Wade nodded, deciding that Boak was possibly the bravest little human he’d ever met. He also decided that he absolutely could not fail. Having her death on his hands would be unbearable. Which is why he spent the entire way down the lift deciding on a plan of action. He wavered between direct attack and subversive maneuvering, settling somewhere in the middle.

If the guards he had bound and gagged and left in the armory were noticed to be missing, no one seemed to blame Wade for it. The guards he passed also didn’t seem the least bit alarmed that Wade was dressed in the red and black of the Butcher. The uniform was nothing like his usual trappings. Much more black, much less red, with substantially more skin showing, but with more protection of his torso. The swords on his back still vibrated in the scabbard, making him tingle in anticipation for the upcoming confrontation.

His destination was the bath chamber. It was always the place Stryfe went after returning from patrol without fail. Considering that the bath was already filling and steaming, Wade knew that Stryfe had entered the building. So Wade sat on the raised stone bench beside the bath and waited.

Sometimes, waiting made Wade anxious. He would get fidgety and impatient. But this time, he was calm. He could not afford to fidget or be impatient. There would only be a brief window of surprise, only a split second before Stryfe would throw up his defenses and fling Wade away. Wade held the vibrating blades in his hands, his mind clear and calm, breath cutting thin gaps through the steam that filled the room. He waited, still as a stone.

Then Stryfe was in the room, and everything happened fast. So fast, both men struggled to comprehend the exact steps. Stryfe entered and saw Wade, saw him dressed in the other Deadpool’s costume. The mutant’s eyes widened in recognition, then narrowed in fury as Wade erupted off the bench in a whirl of humming blades and primal rage. Blood flew. Voices roared. The clash was so fast. So fast.

Wade found himself on the floor looking at his own legs, only partially aware of the fact that he’d been ripped in half. The legs were still kicking. He thought about the other Deadpool, with a body still emitting weak signals to long dead muscles.

Something warm was dripping down his face, leaking into his mouth. It wasn’t until his lagging brain registered the metallic flavor that Wade realized it was blood. He pushed himself onto his side, looking up at the giant standing over him, a steady stream of crimson pouring from between the plates of his armor. Wade’s blade had found its target.

With a voice filled with rage and hurt, Stryfe said, “Why have you done this? Why couldn’t you just accept what I give you?”

Wade huffed a laugh, his brain flooding with chemicals that blocked out the agony of missing his entire lower half. “I’m not who you want me to be.”

“That will have to change. I can fix this. I just have to be more thorough.” Stryfe winced, looking down at the slow-forming pool of blood.

“You can’t make me be someone else,” Wade said. “I’ll always remember who I am. Who I love. What’s waiting for me when I leave.”

“Nothing is waiting for you,” Stryfe said coldly.

Wade’s heart stopped. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been wiped from the memory of your dear Peter,” Stryfe spat. “And if I have to, I’ll rewrite your mind so that the only thing you remember is killing Peter yourself.”

“You’re gonna be too dead to do a fucking thing,” Wade said, then coughed and spat out his own blood. “Unlike me, you can’t just pull on your legs and walk away from major organ failure.”

Stryfe bent down and grabbed one of Wade’s fallen blades. He pointed the tip at Wade’s face, drawing a shallow cut across Wade’s cheek. The moment the blade touched his skin, Wade knew he’d made a slight miscalculation when he declared victory.

“A metal alloy imbued with anti-regeneration radiation,” Stryfe said with a smirk. “See, Wade. I may be going to die, but I’m taking you with me.”

Wade swallowed, his eyes narrowing. He gritted his teeth and hissed, “Then kill me. Do. It.”

Stryfe raised the blade, his eyes locked with Wade’s.

_This is it_ , Wade thought.

But before Stryfe could bring the blade down, a voice boomed seemingly from everywhere, and the words, “Hail Lord Apocalypse!” echoed throughout the Tower, reverberating in the walls. Stryfe visibly paled, the swords dropping harmlessly out of his grip.

He gasped, “Impossible.”

***

In the same moment, the Throne Room was cast into orange yellow light as the braziers that flanked the throne erupted with fire. Long dormant machinery whirred to life in the walls as more lights bloomed and broken cables crackled. Above, the ceiling opened revealing an observation window looking up into the puce-colored sky.

Boak’s eyes went wide and her heart throbbed in her chest seeing the room come to life. She panicked and ran to the sarcophagus room, and froze seeing the sarcophagus in operation. The chamber was filled with a greenish light, and the entire room hummed. There was a panel on the side, hidden under a layer of muck. She couldn’t read, but she knew that those jumping symbols had something to do with the vital signs of the chamber’s inhabitant.

Just as the heart monitor started to chirp, the entire tower was rocked by an explosion. Boak gripped the side of the sarcophagus, finding herself staring into the eyes of the Butcher. This time finding not a dead stare, but eyes that searched her face. Eyes that showed their surprise at being in the land of the living.

Boak pushed away from the sarcophagus and sprinted back to the throne room just in time to see something that looked like a human fly over the observation dome with what looked like a hammer in its hand. Lightning crackled in a sky that was previously clear.

She dropped to her knees, arms crossed on her chest, frantically praying to Mother Askani to protect her. Or at least, give her a painless death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I'm sticking with Wade's story for the next chapter too, but after that we'll rejoin Peter, Bucky, and their merry mercs. :)


	29. The Throne Room - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda finds Wade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This is an emotional Rollercoaster of a chapter. I'm sorry. Don't hate me. I put a bandaid at the end I swear.

The Sneak Attack has been used for centuries as an invaluable method for taking down powerful enemies with a relatively small force. The key elements involved for such an attack to work are a highly skilled group, and of course the element of surprise. For example, a group of superheroes consisting of a genius billionaire, a flying god, several assassins, an all-around American icon, and a kid capable of hiding his existence via telekinesis would be ideal for penetrating the Tower Fortress. Especially with the small battalion of skilled Askani backing them up.

That is, unless if said kid with telekinetic abilities happens to be an exact replica of the former owner of said Tower, and the Tower throws out a greeting designed to massage the ego of the former owner. Yeah, that kind of fucks up the element of surprise.

As the echos of the disembodied greeting died away, Evan looked at Wanda with his eyes wide. Wanda just grinned and pulled a pair of pineapple grenades out of her pouch and threw them down the hall and pulled out her favorite handguns, and said, “Might wanna get big, little dude.”

Evan did as commanded, turning into his massive form, his shoulders filling the cramped space where he stood. He stepped out into the hall, bringing up his TK shield and extending it to surround Wanda and two of the Askani soldiers nearest them just as the grenades exploded.

The explosion was much bigger than Wanda had anticipated. Perhaps it was because the grenades were more powerful. Maybe it had something to do with whatever was in those pipes. Either way, the explosion shook the entire tower, and once the fireball had extinguished, Evan, Wanda, and the two Askani continued deeper into the Tower.

They moved through the blackened and burning halls, passing a few dead minions along the way. They could hear the Askani troops clashing with even more minions elsewhere. Just as they reached the passage another explosion erupted through the Tower, centered somewhere higher with an accompanying rumble of thunder.

Stryfe’s black-clad minions rushed into the hall. At first it seemed they were going to attack, but the moment their eyes landed on Evan, they fell prostrate on the sooty floor, in unison declaring, “Long live En Sabah Nur!”

Evan again looked to Wanda.

Wanda grinned beneath the mask, and said, “Looks like you have some minions to command, brodiddly.”

A look of horror passed through Evan’s red eyes, but vanished before he looked towards the cowering minions. He said, his voice booming and reverberating, “Tell me where to find Stryfe! Tell me where he has taken Deadpool!”

One of the nearest minions sat up on his haunches, entire body shaking as he stammered out, “The bath chamber, Lord Apocalypse.”

“Show me,” Evan demanded as lightning crackled through the halls.

Thor came up beside Evan a moment later, giving the mutant an appreciative look before saying, “I would love to do battle with thee one day.”

Evan looked down at the thunder god, and in his normal, youthful tone whispered, “I don’t like to fight.”

“Aye,” Thor said with a nod and a smile. “Tis probably best for us all that ye are of a peaceful mind.”

When they reached the bath chamber, the only sign Wade had been there was the blood. There was a lot of blood. Blood splatters on the wall, several large puddles that expanded with the help of the moisture in the room, filling the spaces between the large marble slabs that covered the floors. Wanda was the first to notice the drag marks.

“Over there,” she gasped, rushing across the slick floor to where Wade’s upper half lay face down on the floor in a small outcove. Wanda dove down beside him, carefully lifting and turning him onto his back. His face was drained of color, his eyes unfocused. Wanda swept the blood off his cheek, noticing the shallow cut that was not healing. None of his injuries were healing. Feeling panic coming, she said, “Wade? Can you hear me?”

Wade opened one eye a crack and made a gurgling sound before saying, "Hey, sis."

Wanda smiled. "Hey, bro. Want me to grab your legs or are you testing a theory?"

"I'm dying," Wade said.

"You die all the time?" Wanda said.

"Turns out...just a scratch..." He tried to point at the cut on his face. "Anti-regen blades."

Wanda's face fell. "No."

Wade gurgled ad he tried to laugh. "You gotta get Stryfe. He’s wounded.” He swallowed hard. “I… I got him. He’s good as dead. But there’s… In the Throne Room. He’s…” Wade’s vision swam and for a moment he blacked out completely, feeling as if he was falling from a great height towards a deep, overwhelming darkness, only to be jerked back. He gasped out, " _Peter_ ."

Wanda wanted to tell him Peter was coming, but Wade stopped her. "Tell Peter I'm sorry. That...that I love him. Even if...if he doesn't. Tell him." His head lolled forward, his one open eye landing on Evan. "You got big." Wade’s hand reached for Evan, and Evan caught it in his own massive palm. “I love you, kid,” Wade said softly. “Don’t… Don’t let this change you.”

“Okay,” Evan said, feeling like he should say something else. Anything else, but the only word he could come up with he repeated as Wade’s eyes closed. “Okay.”

“You… You need to go. Boak. She’s alone,” Wade mumbled.

“Wade?” Wanda said, feeling him go limp in her arms.

Evan reached out with his psionic powers and found no spark of life in him. Tears flooded his eyes, and he gasped, “He’s _gone_. He’s _really_ gone.”

“He will return, yes?” Thor said, his bright blue eyes turning liquid.

"He always comes back," Wanda said with a voice that cracked, dashing the tears from her face and pulling her mask in place. She wanted to shout her plans for vengeance, but her voice was trapped behind a knot in her throat that seemed to keep growing. But this wasn’t the time, and she knew it. Stryfe was still alive somewhere in the tower. Maybe mortally wounded. Maybe dead. Either way, she had to find him.

Carefully, Wanda lay Wade’s body on the floor, finding his legs to place with the rest of him. Then she guided Evan to his feet, gripping both of his massive shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes. "We'll come back for him, but right now we need to do what he said and make sure Stryfe is dead. We still have work to do, understand?"

Evan nodded, and said, "I understand."

Thor snarled, raising Mjolnir in a fist and growled, "Let us finish this."

They found Stark and Natasha with their group of Askani at the juncture leading to the lifts. Wanda motioned for them to follow. Tony's suit had taken some damage, one of the repulsors sparking. He complained about being grounded, but stopped when Evan glared at him.

Tony frowned. "Something bad happened."

“Wade’s dead,” Wanda said flatly as she stepped onto the lift. Tony, Natasha, and Evan followed.

Once the door closed, Tony said, "Do you think he'll be back up before we're done with the boss fight? He and I have a bet that--"

The look Thor gave him made Tony fall silent with a soft, "Oh."

Tony flipped his mask down. No one would ever mention they heard a sniffle through the metallic voice of the suit. He played with the circuits on his broken repulsor, and said, “We should all go out for ludafisk after this."

Widow glared at him.

“Okay, no ludafisk,” Tony said just as the repulsor whined and blinked to life.

“Get ready,” Wanda said, her voice a little rougher than normal.

Evan focused, again spreading his TK shielding to the rest of the Avengers. Black Widow put fresh magazines in both guns. Thor’s eyes crackled with electricity. Tony started his favorite ass-kicking playlist.

When the doors opened, the only thing that greeted them was an empty hall.

They moved in perfect silence, taking positions on either side of the hall. Warm firelight spilled out of the doors, and add they neared, the echo of a voice could be heard. It was a raspy, soft voice.

Wanda walked into the throne room, and had a hard time understanding what she was seeing. Stryfe lay on the floor, cradled in the arms of a skeletal man who looked like an almost desiccated version of Wade. His eyes were sunken, cheeks hollow. He wore only a pair of very dirty white pants that barely hung on his boney hips. His skeletal fingers stroked through Stryfe’s white hair, whispering things that Wanda could almost hear.

"I knew you would do this. I knew you wouldn't let me go," the skeleton Deadpool said. Stryfe either was too weak to speak, or struck dumb by the sight of his long lost lover. Though his eyes never let Stryfe’s face, he said, "Hello, Wanda."

Wanda aimed at his head. "How do you know my name? Who are you?"

His yellow eyes briefly looked to her. "I don't remember who I was before. The only names I know are Beloved and The Butcher, both given me by this man." The Butcher smiled, thumb brushing across Stryfe’s cheek. "For all the blood spilled and all the hate we created, it is now at the end that I know his love. It was always twisted and brutal. Always given at the edge of a knife. But it is what I craved, even when the madness left me. Even when I killed myself to get away from it."

"You are the one he tried to replace," Wanda said as she lowered the gun.

The Butcher nodded. "Yes. My lord has told me all about his quest. He's speaking to me now. He begs me to take him to the resurrection chamber so that we can be together. He wants me to stand and kill all of you. He wants me to be his Right Hand of Terror one last time."

There was a lot of blood. Wanda has seen enough death to know that soon Stryfe would be dead. He was starting to lose consciousness. Every time he closed his eyes, the Butcher would coax him back again, whisper things only Stryfe could hear.

"I'm done killing for my lord," the Butcher said. "I am ready to die with him."

Wanda stepped closer, kneeling to pick up the fallen sword. She could feel the vibration, and looked at the Butcher. "Is this the sword that negates our healing factors?"

He nodded. "Yes. It is how I ended my life the first time. Now drive it through us both, and leave our bodies to rot. Throw us out the window where the radioactive birds can eat us. Splay us out so the Askani can see that their tormentors are dead and gone. Let the new Apocalypse cleanse what we destroyed."

Wanda hadn't noticed that Evan and the others had entered throne room. Now Evan stood beside her, looking as bewildered as she felt. Wanda back at the two on the floor, then walked behind the Butcher, lining up the blade.

"Keep the sword, Wanda," the Butcher said. Then he leaned down, placing a last kiss on Stryfe’s forehead. "Someday you'll want to die too."

Wanda knew he was speaking the truth. She had been there. Was only a few weeks removed from those emotions. But now, holding the instrument of her death, she knew that dying was not what she wanted anymore. She did not want to replace Nate, because there was no replacing true love. Even Stryfe figured it out in the end.

"He's almost dead," the Butcher said. "Please, kill us now."

With a solid thrust, the sword pierced them both. For a moment, Wanda stood over them, the sound of fire the rush of her own pulse drowning out everything else. It wasn't until Natasha put a hand on her shoulder that Wanda realized she was crying. She latched onto Natasha, sobbing.

Natasha held her tight, looking at Tony who had flipped up his mask to take a closer look at something near the throne. He made a gesture that Natasha couldn't interpret. He tried again, but finally rolled his eyes and said, "There's a little girl hiding over here."

Wanda straightened, and walked to where Tony pointed. The girl was in a small space, hugging her knees. Wanda knelt down and said, "Boak?"

She nodded, terrified.

"I'm Wade’s sister," Wanda said. "We're not going to hurt you."

"Where's Wade?" she asked softly.

Wanda had to fight to keep the tears away as she said, "He died."

Boak stood and said, "That's okay. Bring me his body. I know how to use the sarcophagus to fix him."

***

Boak prepared the sarcophagus with a little assistance from Cable, who had encountered Thor on the way to retrieve Wade’s pieces. Tony stood by, completely in awe of the Celestial technology and absolutely disgusted by the rank odor of the resurrection chamber.

Other than the sarcophagus, the resurrection chamber was the control center for the Terra forming technology on board the ship. Some of it had been damaged, but with Evan giving the commands, the functional systems came on line. Dawnsilk was elated to know the water purification module was ready to be deployed.

By the time Thor returned, the sarcophagus was ready. The thunder god lay Wade gently into the chamber, and assisted Boak in closing the heavy lid.

The 722 Avengers waited anxiously as the sarcophagus initiated. Cable believed it would take a relatively short amount of time to cleanse the radiation blocking Wade’s healing factor, but that didn't make it any less nerve wracking.

Wanda felt like she didn't draw breath until Wade opened his eyes. She helped him sit up in the sarcophagus, and Wade blinked and rubbed his eyes before blearily looking at his companions' reddened, tear streaked, and worried faces.

He smiled and said, "Admit it, I had you going for a minute, didn't I."

Wanda hugged him tight enough to make him squeak, and said, "Don't you ever do that again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I jammed a lot in this chapter. Mainly because I couldn't bring myself to leave Wade dead. I am evil, but not that evil. Close. I came very close to being that evil. But I said no.


	30. Meanwhile, Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Bucky see some action.

The location of the potential Weapon X base was deep in the middle of a forest with no possible stealth landing zones. Thus, Taskmaster’s army of mercs landed in a deep valley about 10 miles away from the compound, and the company set out on foot.

Down below, Task Master’s grunts moved through the dense foliage with amazing stealth for throw-away minions, while Peter swooped through the forest canopy, occasionally swinging high out of the treetops to gauge their position. Pine needles clung to his suit and his webs sometimes tore loose bark off the trees.

He arrived ahead of the rest of the group, checking out the defenses before going back to where Bucky and Taskmaster were waiting. Peter dove down through the branches, landing semi-gracefully, and shook off the twigs. “We’re getting close. I saw a guard tower on this end, but not too many soldiers in the yard. There’s three main structures, but nothing that looks hard to get into.”

“Means it will be hard as hell to get out,” Bucky said through the balaclava covering his face. He and Taskmaster started discussing their plans, sending messages out through the ranks. Then the two started arguing over tactics, Bucky wanting a bold infiltration and Taskmaster wanting a more subtle subversive approach.

“We don’t have time for subtle!” Bucky argued. “They’ve been gone too long. They might not even be alive.”

“And if they are alive, we don’t want to give these assholes a reason to kill their hostages,” Tasky said, his long-suffering apparent even through the skull mask.

Bucky’s fierce gray eyes narrowed. “I could take out this entire compound by myself.”

Peter rolled his eyes, and muttered, “Two mercenaries, both alike in villainy, in fair Canada where we lay our scene.”

Taskmaster and Bucky looked at him, neither amused. Taskmaster said, “I keep forgetting that you’re a smart ass when Wade’s not around.”

“Somebody has to be the adult,” Peter said, getting an odd feeling of deja vu.

“That’s what you always say,” Tasky said with a laugh. Then he said to Bucky, “Okay, you go in guns blazing to the main structure, and we’ll do the sneaking. Sound good?”

Bucky gave a sharp nod, then looked at Peter. “Unless you’re bulletproof, you should probably stick to recon. We’ll need someone watching our backs.”

Peter sighed heavily. “Look, I’m not a little kid. And this suit is made of some serious material. Oh, and did I mention my motherfuckin’ Spidey Senses? Because I’m awesome. I’m going in. You two just try to keep up.”

With that, he shot out a web and flung himself up high through the trees. Peter hurtled through the canopy, swinging in a high arch and landing soft on the roof of one of the structures. He crept to the edge of the building, quickly throwing out webs to blind the nearby perimeter cameras before hopping to the next building and repeating the process.

By the time the gunfire started, Peter had cleared half the guards, leaving them strung up in cocoons or webbed to the wall. A few web-balls disabled a couple gunmen out of Bucky’s line of sight, and some quick maneuvering worthy of a gymnastics Gold Medal saved him from certain lead poisoning when Bucky fired his direction.

Peter raised his hands and shouted, “Friend! Remember?”

“I told you to stay out of the way,” Bucky said as he passed him, stepping over a dead henchman.

“I thought you meant the bad guys, Bucky,” Peter said as he fell into step beside him. “You’re not supposed to shoot your teammates.”

Bucky glared at him, an exceptionally menacing look when cast from behind the balaclava. He slammed a fresh magazine into his gun, and said, “When we get in, go high, and Don’t. Get. In. My. Way.”

Peter nodded and said, “I get the feeling I’m not the only one rescuing a significant other here.”

“Steve has been my best friend since I was a kid,” Bucky answered tightly. “He’s saved me from my own madness, and I’m not going to appreciate any further jabs on the subject from a boy in tights.”

“This is made of flexible kevlar,” Peter said, then raised his hands at Bucky’s piercing look, and said, “Okay, okay. Show’s over. Let’s kick some ass.”

About the same time those words left Peter’s mouth, the 50-Cal erupted, and both Peter and Bucky dove out of the way. Peter pressed his back against the shelter, and said, “What the fuck! This is Canada. I thought they were supposed to be nice.”

Bucky shouted, “Where the fuck’s the backup!”

Taskmaster’s voice crackled over the line, “We’re being subversive, remember.”

“Fuck you, Masters! Get your asses moving!” Bucky shouted back.

“I second that,” Peter quipped as another spray of high-caliber bullets swept past, crumbling the top portion of the concrete that protected them. Peter was about to ask what Bucky’s plan was now, but didn’t have time before the maniac assassin leapt out of cover, firing well aimed bursts as he somersaulted across the walkway. Peter could only watch in horror as the loony bastard walked out in the open, firing in what appeared to be an erratic pattern. He didn’t even break his pace when a shot nicked his leg.

Then, it was silent and Peter again poked his head out only to see Bucky calmly slamming another magazine into his gun. Peter tried to not think about all the carnage around them, and walked up beside Bucky. Peter’s Spidey Senses were tingling, but he wasn’t sure if it was just the crazy amount of dead people, Bucky’s own unstable state of mind, or something actually big and bad getting ready to come for them.

That was when the door at the other end of the compound rolled up, and a tank rolled out.

“Well,” Bucky said, voice calm. “I’d say this situation is FUBAR.”

“You think?” Peter snapped as he quickly calculated which way to swing out of the way, but a sudden spike in his senses told him to grab Bucky and dive. The two hurtled into a narrow walkway between buildings as a rocket flew down and obliterated the tank.

Once the dust cleared, they both looked up with a mix of awe and terror at Outlaw, who just tipped her hat and dramatically blew the steam from the barrel of her rocket launcher. She shouted, “Y’all look like you needed a hand.”

Bucky got up, and Peter said, “Thanks, Ms. Inez.”

“Don’t be too sweet, or you’re gonna make ol’ DP jealous,” Outlaw said with a wink. Then she slapped Peter’s ass, and said, “Though I wouldn’t mind, sugar. Wade say’s you’re the best ride at Disneyland.”

Peter wasn’t sure what to make of that, and was happy his face was hidden behind his mask.

Really, Peter had done his absolute best to not think about Wade or what he would do when he actually saw Wade. He’d come to the conclusion that no matter what, he would be civil--at least as far as his personal comfort allowed. He couldn’t deny that he and Wade were together; the apartment was all the evidence he needed. Still, he wasn’t sure how he would react.

So he shoved those thoughts away and followed Bucky and Inez into the main building.

Clearly, Taskmaster’s subversive infiltration had worked, judging by the amount of dead and groaning henchmen on the ground. Peter couldn’t help noticing a few that had been slashed, and knew before he saw the burly brute that Wolverine was behind a few of those deaths. He still had tubes sticking out of his chest and an IV attached to his arm. Obviously, he’d just come out of one helluva nap.

Peter had a moment of being slightly star-struck, because Wolverine was a legend. Then he almost wet himself when Wolverine clapped a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Looks like you made some new friends, kid.”

Peter nodded, and said, “I’m just going to guess we’ve met before this moment.”

“Oh shit,” Logan grumbled, his hand dropping away. “Please tell me I’m the only one you don’t remember.”

“There’s a list,” Peter answered.

He frowned, and said, “We’ll sort this out after we’re done here.” His claws erupted from his fists, and he said, “If you don’t like carnage, you should probably stay here and watch our backs.”

“I came in here with Cobra Commander over there,” Peter said, gesturing towards Bucky. “I think I can handle…”

“No, Peter,” Logan said sternly. “Just stay here and leave the dirty work to me.”

Peter frowned, but again it was hidden behind the mask. He didn’t however protest; arguing with Wolverine seemed like a bad idea. And he was still feeling a little star-struck, so he did as requested. It was a simple enough task, especially after Bob and Hayden arrived, announcing that their quadrant was secured.

Distantly, he could hear shouts and gunfire, but Peter focused on gathering up the wounded with the Taskmaster skull on their black uniforms and dressing wounds as best he could. He’d learned a long time ago that the webbing could make an excellent tourniquet in a pinch, and was just as effective as a bandage for lesser wounds.

Bob was helping, and proving to be an excellent field medic. He was sewing up deep lacerations, splinting broken bones, and seemed to have an endless supply of pain relievers and burn ointment.

“So you know me,” Peter said while patching another Taskmaster minion.

“Yes. You and Wade frequently have dinner and game night at my place,” Bob said. Then he added, almost sheepishly, “Not to mention that for a few nights before you left, I was staying at your place with Wanda in the guest bedroom.”

“Wanda is Wade’s sister, right?” Peter said.

Bob nodded. “Yes, Mr. Parker.”

“I’m going to level with you, Bob. I’m not entirely comfortable that a HYDRA agent knows my real identity,” Peter said as he webbed around the minion’s shattered wrist. “And I would prefer you stop using my name around other people.”

“Okay, Mr. Spidey,” Bob said with a smile. “But you don’t have to worry about us. We’re more afraid of Wade than we are eager for a payday.”

Peter asked, “So are you friends or coworkers with Deadpool?”

“I’m a friend,” Bob answered proudly. “And you and I are also friends. At least, we were getting there I think. Actually, I admire you, Mr. Spidey. You did something that I always wished I could do.”

“What’s that?” Peter said, looking at Bob.

“You made Wade see he was more than just a merc,” Bob answered. He tucked away his medical supplies, and said, “You made him not feel worthless. And I hope I’m not overstepping by saying this, but I hope you give him a chance. He’s so much better since he’s been with you.”

Peter nodded, feeling that odd sensation inside telling him that what this little milquetoast minion said was true. But he didn’t have time to dwell on that thought, because there was a noise outside that roused him out of his thoughts.

Bob followed Peter to the door of the building and watched as the Quinjet slowly descended into the heart of the compound. Peter smirked, and waved as the platform lowered and Tony walked out, flanked by Falcon and Black Widow.

“Nice of you to join us, Stark,” Peter said with a smirk that seemed to transfer through the mask just fine. “If you hurry, you might get to save the day before Wolverine finishes levelling the place.”

“How the hell did you…?” Tony asked through the robotic voice of the suit.

“I have my own intelligence sources,” Peter answered. “Sources you ignored because they were from a crazy guy with a metal arm, which, I must say Tony is kind of hypocritical considering the whole Lord of Metal thing you’ve got going.”

Falcon snickered, and said, “I forgot how funny you are, Pete.”

Peter shrugged. “Apparently, I have to be the adult in my relationship.”

“Have you found them?” Natasha asked.

“We found Wolverine,” Peter answered. “They were working on him in this building. I was told to stay here and keep this area secure. So I did. But hey! You’re here, so I’m just gonna…” He trailed off as he went to sling a web, but stopped seeing a giant bolt of lightning shoot out of the neighboring building.

Natasha quirked an eyebrow, and said, “Guess they found Thor.”

The neighboring building, which was the main holding area for the prisoners, was mostly in ruins by the time the Avengers arrived. Bucky sat on a splintered desk pulling chunks of wood out from between the joints of his mechanical arm. He gave Stark a cold look and even colder smile, and said, “Nice of you to join us, Mr. Stark.”

Peter was certain the sun could be eclipsed by the amount of shade Tony Stark was throwing Bucky’s direction as he said, “Who knew having friends in low places could be beneficial.”

“Same team, right?” Peter said, stepping between Stark and Bucky--who looked slightly more murderous than normal.

“Right,” Stark grumbled. Then said, “Where’s Steve?”

“He’s been in stasis,” Taskmaster answered as he approached. “I have my people waking him and the others.”

Tony Stark flipped up his visor. “Is this some kind of joke?” He looked at Peter. “Taskmaster? Really? Who else did you team up with? HYDRA?”

“Well…” Peter started, and right on cue Bob came around the corner. Peter sighed, and said, “Uh, so this is Hydra Bob.”

Falcon eyed him, and then shrugged. “I’m just going to go with this being a normal turn of events.”

“Completely normal,” Natasha agreed, her amusement apparent in the subtle tic of the right corner of her mouth.

***

It took some time to get everyone out of stasis, and by the time all the prisoners were accounted for, it was obvious they would need more than just the Quinjet to ferry people out of the compound--despite Tony Stark’s assertion that it was the best idea. Stark didn’t like the idea of using Taskmaster’s services, even if Cap thought the man had redeeming qualities.

Either way, the mutants were loaded in groups of four onto Masters’ helicopters.

Wolverine was the one who found the head of this particular black-ops project, a man called Butler. Logan didn’t go into all the details of the encounter, but before Butler died, he gave up the names and locations of all other facilities working in tangent with this particular operation.

Bucky seemed to be even more sullen now that the mission was drawing to an end. It hadn’t escaped Peter’s notice that the assassin had avoided Steve Rogers from the moment Cap opened his eyes. Even when Steve asked, Bucky opted to ride with Taskmaster back to New York.

Peter wasn’t given an option. He was escorted onto the Quinjet by Hawkeye and Falcon, and ended up sitting next to Captain America. Cap, who knew him and referred to him as “son”. It sort of made Peter’s head swim a little to be on that kind of familiar terms with someone he hero-worshipped as a kid.

After they’d been in the air an hour, Peter finally removed his mask and slouched back in his seat. He was exhausted, a little beat up, and--thanks to his tree-swinging--smelled like a cheap pine air freshener. But more than anything, he felt...sad.

Though there were a lot of people at the compound who had Deadpool’s skin condition, Wade Wilson was not present. Butler swore that Wade Wilson was never at this facility. That he had been given over to Stryfe in exchange for getting access to Wolverine and the rest of the mutants at the Jean Grey School.

Peter tried to blink away the sting of tears, not wanting to start crying in front of Captain America or Wolverine or the rest of the Avengers. Especially since he couldn’t give an adequate explanation as to why he was crying--not even to himself. He thought about Bucky’s words, about the ghost of himself that was missing someone, and the traitorous tears spilled over.

“It’s okay, son,” Cap said softly. “We’ll find him.”

Peter nodded, but said nothing. He didn’t trust his voice. Besides, he didn’t know what to say anyway.

****  
  



	31. Filling in the Blanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets back to the Tower, and is still very confused.

May Parker stood at the window of the Common Room of Avenger’s Tower, looking out over the city with a cup of coffee that had gone from hot to cold between her first sip and her second. She grimaced, setting the cup aside and returning her gaze to the city. According to Agent Coulson, who brought her the coffee, the Avengers were on their way back to the Tower. Since then, May watched the sky and waited with the agent standing by.

Actually, Agent Coulson had been almost like a shadow the entire time that Peter was gone. He believed that Peter would try to contact May, and wanted to be present in the event. Or maybe it was just that she was a civilian who suddenly had inside information about the Avengers. Either way, she hadn’t been able to go to the bathroom without him waiting outside the door.

For not the first time, May wished she had told Peter and Wade that she knew their secret identities. She couldn’t help feeling like she could have helped more, if only they weren’t so worried about keeping their secrets. Still, she knew they both had their reasons. Peter wanted to keep her safe. Wade didn’t want to be judged by his past.

Knowing Peter was out there somewhere with an incomplete memory with an assassin with an incomplete memory was enough to make May panic. Over the years, she learned to cope with his dangerous, heroic lifestyle. Still, every time she saw Spiderman on the news swinging from buildings and taking brutal hits, it left her breathless until Peter called.

Learning that Wade and several others were the prisoners of what Coulson called a rogue military project made her sick to her stomach. She’d had enough one-on-one talks with Wade to know that he had experienced torture and forced medical procedures. She knew he was terrified of hospitals.

But worse, she knew that when Peter found him, there would be no recognition. Maybe from either of them. Though Peter couldn’t see it, May knew that he was broken hearted. She could tell by the lost looks he got when he stared out the window, by the way he stood and spoke. It was the same way he acted when Wade was gone on a particularly long mission, though Peter denied anything was wrong. He always denied anything was wrong, no matter how wrong everything was.

There was a soft buzz, and Coulson answered his phone. A few seconds later, the soft spoken agent said, “The Quinjet is landing. If you’ll follow me, Mrs. Parker.”

May nodded and trailed behind the agent. Once inside the elevator, she asked, “Is Peter okay?”

“I don’t have that information,” Coulson answered. Then at her frown, added, “Medical has been alerted, but that is just a precaution after any mission. And considering Peter’s condition before leaving, I’m certain Dr. Banner wants to examine him.”

“Do you know if Wade is with them?” May asked.

“I don’t have that information either,” Coulson responded.

Impatiently, May snapped, “What information do you have?”

“The Quinjet has arrived,” Coulson answered dryly as the elevator doors opened and he stepped out to the landing platform. May took a deep breath through her nostrils, fighting the desire to punch Phil Coulson in the back of the head.

The aggression vanished when Peter walked down the ramp. He was dirty, bruised, and looked completely defeated. May hurried to him and wrapped him in a tight hug. He sagged against her, and buried his face on her shoulder with a heavy sigh.

May squeezed him, and said, “God, I could just choke you for running off like that Peter Parker. You crazy, wonderful...Dammit, I’m crying.”

Peter laughed softly, then sniffled, and stood up straight. In a soft voice, he said, “Sorry, Aunt May. It was sort of unplanned.”

“You didn’t find him, did you,” May said as she cupped his bruised cheek.

“No,” Peter said, his voice cracking on the single syllable. “And… I don’t know what to feel or think, and I just…” He looked at Steve and Stark, and the rest of the Avengers, then sighed. “I just want to sleep.”

Coulson, who was still hovering nearby, said, “We need to debrief you on the mission before you go anywhere.”

May spun around and jabbed a finger in Coulson’s chest. “Listen, I’ve had about enough of you. All of these people have been through hell. I guarantee your goddamn reports can wait a few hours, Agent.”

Coulson gave a tight smile, and said, “These are our procedures, Mrs. Parker.”

“You can take your procedures and shove them up your tight ass,” May snapped back.

Tony Stark snorted a laugh, and said, “Marry me, May Parker. Please.”

May glared at him, and snapped, “Shut up, Mr. Stark.”

That was when Steve stepped in and said, “Mrs. Parker, I completely agree.” He looked at Coulson. “Paperwork can wait a while. I know my head’s not too clear right now anyway. I’d rather report when I have my wits.”

“Aye,” Thor said as he stepped off the Quinjet, wearing a silver thermal blanket as a toga. He looked far too tired for an Asgardian god. “I require rest and respite. These days in false sleep have left me feeling very out of sorts.”

“Just don’t drop the toga, Point Break,” Stark said with a sternly pointed finger. Then he looked at Coulson and said, “Come on, Agent. I’ll fill out a report for you. Would that make you happy? It will make me miserable, which should make you happy.”

“Four hours,” Coulson said flatly. “Then we reconvene in the meeting room.” Then he motioned for Tony, and the two walked into the Tower.

Hawkeye looked at Natasha, and said, “Is it just my imagination, or did Tony just take one for the team?”

“There must be an ulterior motive,” Natasha said flatly.

“No more talking,” Steve said, his voice a ghost of its usual commanding tone. Then he started towards the doors, stumbling a little until Thor came to his side and put an arm around the supersoldier. The rest fell into step behind them.

May directed Peter to his quarters, which was a large suite Tony Stark had personally designed for the webslinger when he first joined the Avengers. Peter never stayed in it, and if not for Coulson showing it to May, he would not know of its existence.

Peter would rather go home to Aunt May’s house. It was home. Was always home. However, there was that apartment with the comfortable bed and all his clothes, and those clothes that belonged to another man named Wade Wilson. That place is where he really wanted to go, but it was a completely alien location. He knew intellectually that this was the result of knowing he belonged there, but there was a void in his mind where the memory of belonging should be.

With May’s urging, Peter took a shower. The steaming water felt good on his skin, relaxing his tense muscles. He washed quickly, but stayed under the stream, letting the water beat down on top of his head and cascade down between his shoulders. There was a displaced memory of hands scrubbing through his hair, moving over his soap-slick spine, and gripping his hips with firm hands.

Peter let out a frustrated sound and pounded a fist against the shower wall, forgetting his strength and shattering a few pieces of tile. He winced at the noise and turned off the water, only belated realizing he was half hard from a memory that he couldn’t even recall clearly. He wasn’t even sure it was a memory.

According to Wolverine--Logan?--Wade was probably in a different Universe. There was something about an obsessive mutant that Peter couldn’t wrap his mind around. Why would someone be so obsessed with Deadpool that they go to another Universe to find a replacement? There were so many times that Peter wanted to duct-tape the man’s mouth shut and throw him off the tallest skyscraper. He was annoying and loud. Always in the way. Always a pain in the ass, showing up when he wasn’t wanted and never around when it actually mattered. The worthless bastard was probably hanging out at a fucking taco stand somewhere...

Peter sniffed and wiped his eyes on his bath towel.

“Are you okay, Peter?” May’s voice asked through the door.

He took a deep breath, clearing his throat a couple times before saying, “Yeah. Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

By the time he exited the bathroom, Peter felt like he was made of lead. His whole body felt heavy and tingly from the hot water and overexertion. He took one look at the bed, then walked to the sofa and flopped down, tugging one of the throw pillows under his head.

Peter wasn’t sure how much time had passed when someone was started pounding on the door. He was dreaming about someone dancing in candy-cane boxer shorts and covered in tinsel. But the warm, golden eyes disappeared as soon as Peter was roused from sleep. He pushed himself up to sitting, and watched with bleary eyes as May walked to the door. There was a hushed conversation, then May looked his direction.

“What?” Peter said as he stood and the door closed. “Something wrong?”

May was smiling. “No. Nothing’s wrong. That was Agent Simmons. Wade and several others just materialized in the Baxter Building. They’re being escorted here and should be at the Tower in 10 minutes.”

Those ten minutes might as well have been ten years. The moment Peter heard the news, he felt something inside constrict. He was anxious and on edge. Those horrible thoughts were still in his head about Deadpool--mouthy, useless, worthless, pain in the ass. But at the same time, he was as nervous as he’d been the first time trying out his webshooters. There was the feeling that he was going into something that was potentially life-threatening. Or even life-changing.

In a haze of confused emotions and thoughts, Peter went with Clint, Natasha, Coulson, and Aunt May down to the basement to await the arrival of the SHIELD escort. Only May’s hand on his arm kept Peter from bouncing off the walls. He was shaking and sweating, with the traitorous tears streaking his face for reasons that were mysterious.

_I’ll see him, and everything will make sense_ , Peter thought. The mystery was about to be solved. One look at Wade Wilson, and the pieces would all fall into place.

The gates to the underground garage opened, and six sleek black SUV’s rolled in, coming to a stop in a neat line in front of the entrance. Peter tensed as the doors opened, and he watched the faces of each person stepping out.

The faces were all very familiar. Someone who looked very much like Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, and an absolute duplicate of Thor. Both Natasha and Clint were transfixed by the doubles of Clint and Natasha, who exited the third SUV hand in hand. Then he saw a hulk of a man with a metal arm and glowing eye get out of the fifth. The sixth was last, and the doors remained shut for what felt like an eternity as Peter stared, knowing that Deadpool was inside.

Peter held his breath as the door opened. The first to get out was a woman covered in scars, followed by a teen with gray skin and a strange looking mouth. Both looked at Peter, giving him a smile before the woman ducked back in the SUV. Then she stepped back, and the final occupant stepped out.

Scarred skin. Golden eyes that Peter could see even from so far away. Eyes that met his and made Peter’s heart race.

Transfixed, Peter watched Wade Wilson walk to him, only dimly aware that they were the center of attention. Inside, the whirlwind of emotions was turning into a hurricane. His breath was becoming shallow, his vision blurring with tears. This man, this merc, this specter that had haunted him as a vague idea was right in front of him. Real and close enough to touch.

Then Wade wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight. And Peter… Peter didn’t know what to do at first. It was like he’d forgotten what a hug was. It almost felt like an out of body experience, because his mind wasn’t able to reconcile his body’s desire to hold this man. Mind and body battled, and Peter just stood there.

After another small eternity, Wade stepped back. His eyes were red and his face wet, but he was smiling. Then he spoke, his voice scratchy and rough. “Sorry about that. I, uh, just had to make sure you were real.”

Peter still couldn’t talk, so he nodded.

“And you’re okay?” Wade said, so much fear and concern in his eyes.

Peter nodded again, and when he was finally able to speak, his voice was thick. “I…I just… I don’t remember...you. “

“I know, baby boy,” Wade said, reaching then retracting before touching Peter’s hand. He cleared his throat, and said, “And it’s okay. You’re okay. It’s… It’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Peter said, a frown settling on his brow. “I haven’t been okay at all. And I know you’re not okay.” He gave a bitter laugh, and added, “You’re not the Wade Wilson I remember at all.”

“I see,” Wade said sadly, starting to turn away because he was really struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Then Peter’s hand was on Wade’s shoulder, gently turning him around. He couldn’t stop looking at Wade’s honey-gold eyes. Peter smiled, and said, “I don’t remember you, but I know you’re the one who belongs in the blank spots.”

Wade gave a small smile, and said, “You don’t know how happy that ma--Oh!”

Wade didn’t get to finish that sentence, because he suddenly had two arms full of Peter Parker.

 


	32. The Other Avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade has emotions, and Steve loses his cool.

When Peter hugged him, Wade did not want to let go. There was nothing in the world better than the feeling of being wrapped in Peter’s strong embrace. No, it didn’t feel the same as it did before. This was a desperate act of someone hoping to find something that was missing, which Wade understood completely. And he would take that any day over the horrific thoughts that had plagued him. Over thinking Peter would never again be in his life.

In the days following Stryfe and the Butcher’s death, Wade was busy enough to keep that thought out of his mind. Wade was put to work helping repair various environmental modules while Evan and Cable worked to calibrate the ship to accept commands from Dawnsilk and Boak. Wade had never been so impressed by anyone as he was by Evan during those days. The kid was smart and resilient. He worked tirelessly, following up on a promise made to help repair what Apocalypse and Stryfe had destroyed.

Evan was Wade’s hero, and nothing was going to change that.

As for Nate, Wade kept his distance from mutant messiah because Wade could only see Stryfe when he looked at him. Twice, Wade almost stabbed Nate because he surprised him. He half expected Nate to cajole him over it, but instead he apologized and started sending Boak to ask Wade questions if needed.

They kept finding more and more that needed the Avengers’ attention, too. Repairing the food synthesizers, which practically gave Tony a boner because it was the only Celestial technology that he had any clue how to fix. The rest seemed to require some level of telepathy, but the food synthesizers were circuits and relays. He could reverse engineer it, rebuild, and replicate that. Which he did with the help of Natasha and a couple of the Askani commandos.

General America and Hawkeye occupied themselves building structures to house the newly refurbished environmental cleansers, a couple new barracks, and a the first bonafide playground the Askani youths had ever seen. It wasn’t much, just a teeter-totter made from a beam and merry-go-round fashioned from the landing gear of an ancient downed plane. The kids didn’t know what the purpose of these devices were, at least until the General and Hawkeye gave a demonstration.

Thor spent his time cleansing the land of radiation. It would take decades to completely heal what millennia of war had destroyed, but by the time the Avengers turned everything over to the Askani, the rain that fell was pure. Thor vowed that he would return as many times as needed to fix what their universe’s Asgardians had neglected to do. In truth, Thor doubted Asgard existed anymore, as he could find no evidence of the Bifrost.

They left Stryfe’s ruined world in a state of recovery, and if it had been possible, Wade would have stayed longer. Not because he loved being in that nightmare world where every sight, sound, and smell reminded him of Stryfe’s skeevie hands on him, but because going home meant facing the reality that Peter no longer remembered him.

Wade Wilson was not an optimist. When Stryfe told him he’d wiped Wade from Peter’s memory, there wasn’t a question in the merc’s mind that it happened. It wasn’t something said just to inflict pain; it was an indelible fact. Peter Parker, love of Wade’s life, no longer remembered him. Or worse, he only remembered Wade as Deadpool, the Merc who threw him off the Brooklyn Bridge that one time.

All those times that Wade had kissed Peter like it was the last time he would ever do such a thing now felt like the worst memories. He didn’t want the last time to be the last time. Wade wanted another quiet evening lounging on the couch holding the one he loves. He wanted another syrup-flavored morning kiss. He wanted Sunday breakfast with May. Once upon a time, Wade probably would have been content with what had already happened. He would have been happy that he was that lucky to experience these things just one time. But now, once was not enough.

Back on Earth-722, Wade went through the motions of showering and putting on clean clothes.

 

Wanda barely left his side, and if she did, Evan was there to take her spot. The two of them herded Wade through Avengers Tower, down to Reed Richard’s portal room. It was only there that Wade realized that he wasn’t going back to his world alone, and Stark, Rogers, Natasha, and Clint were going along for the ride.

Arriving in the basement of the Baxter Building felt like the first step of a condemned man towards the gallows. Wade took a deep breath, following instructions to get into the SHIELD SUV, but he couldn’t speak to anyone. He didn’t have words for all the things he was feeling. He spent the ride trying to mentally prepare himself for what was coming.

Then the SUV stopped, and Wade could see Peter standing by the underground entrance, and all of his preparation dissolved into an ache that settled heavy in his chest. Peter looked almost haggard. He was paler than usual, his eyes rimmed by dark circles as if he hadn’t slept for days. There were bruises on his arms peeking out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. Wade’s mind conjured up every worst-case scenario for how those injuries occurred, always coming back to _this is my fault_.

“Wade?”

Wade’s eyes snapped to Wanda, who was leaning into the SUV. He hadn’t even noticed that she and Evan had exited the vehicle.

Wanda put a hand on his shoulder, and said, “I got you, bro.”

Wade nodded, and got out of the vehicle. It took him a moment to get the courage to look back at Peter, and when he did he saw that Peter was staring at him. It was a look of confusion mixed with dread and something else Wade couldn’t put his finger on.

The part of his mind that had been tortured by Stryfe’s manipulations needed to know for a fact that Peter Parker wasn’t just a hallucination. Wasn’t just something a tortured man had conjured to escape his own personal Hell. He needed to know that Peter was real. The first steps towards Peter were the hardest, but after that Wade’s body seemed to go on autopilot, because even though he knew that Peter didn’t remember him, Wade couldn’t stop himself from automatically wrapping his arms around Peter.

The hug, Wade knew, lasted longer than it should have. Especially when Peter froze. But he couldn’t let go. And when he finally did let go, he did his best to play it cool. He tried his hardest.

Still, hearing Peter say, “You’re not the Wade Wilson I remember,” almost completely undid him. Because Wade knew. He knew that Peter remembered the regenerating degenerate. He remembered the guy who cut off his hands to make a joke or blew out his brains because he was bored.

Wade turned away as the tears threatened, only managing to croak out, “I see,” as his heart shattered into tiny pieces.

Then there was a hand on his shoulder, and Peter was smiling and his perfect voice saying, “I don’t remember you, but I know you’re the one who belongs in the blank spots.”

Wade wasn’t sure the steps involved after Peter latched onto him. He couldn’t remember what he said or what others said. The only thing he could do was squeeze his Spidey as long as Peter would allow. It was belatedly that Wade noticed May was hugging them both on one side with Wanda on the other. Wade managed to release Peter so that he could hug May properly, who was sobbing against his chest as she whispered, “I was so worried. I’m so relieved.” Then she grabbed his shirt with both hands and declared, “You ever disappear again, so help me Wade Wilson, I will strangle you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Miss May,” Wade said.

“Good.” She wiped the tears from her face, then took Peter and Wade by the hand. To Peter, she said, “How do you feel?”

Peter looked at Wade, and then back to May. “I… I don’t know what…”

“It’s okay,” Wade said, though unlike before, he sounded like he actually believed it. “We’ll figure it out.”

Peter nodded, then gestured to the others around them, and said, “Looks like you’ve made friends.”

Introductions had to be made, duplicates explained. There was so much that needed to be reported, and Phil Coulson was practically hyperventilating at the amount of paperwork having two groups of Avengers was going to generate.

The meeting room in Avengers Tower had never been so full that anyone could recall. And really, with two Tony Starks present, it was a miracle there was room for anyone outside those two giant egos. Or maybe the room would implode from the amount of patriotism that having Captain and General America generates. Then there was Clint and Clint, who were equal parts fascinated and enamored with each other. Meanwhile, the Natashas seemed to be having the most epic staredown in the history of staredowns.

Wade and Peter sat together at one end of the table. There was some awkwardness there that both could feel. Wade was teetering between elation and misery, and really, Peter was doing the same. Now and then, their eyes would meet and both would smile shyly and look away. Sometimes Peter would study Wade out of the corner of his eye, trying to put Wade’s face into his memories. It felt right, but it still didn’t feel real.

Then again, as he looked around a room full of alternate-universe twins, Peter had to wonder what exactly defined “real” anyway. He was still waiting for that one thing that would make all the pieces fall into place. As it was, every moment seemed to reveal there were even more pieces missing.

Peter noticed how Wade interacted with the other Avengers. The ones from Earth-722 deferred to him and Wanda frequently when it came to discussing their mission in Stryfe’s horror-world. There was sympathy in the way they addressed him. Also respect. Not to mention that the only reason they went into that nightmare universe was to save Wade. The only reason they were here in this world was to support the merc.

Wade didn’t elaborate on what happened to him. He addressed Coulson, saying he believed he was captive for approximately three weeks, but wasn’t sure of the timetable because his memories had been tampered with. Even Peter, who was the only one in the room without an active memory of the merc, knew that there was a lot more to report. But nobody was going to push the subject. And Wade’s promise to submit a written report was enough to satisfy Coulson.

When Peter gave his report on the mission with Bucky, Wade couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the idea of Peter throwing his lot in with a bunch of mercs. He made a mental note to send Taskmaster a fruit basket and a thank you note for the effort. He loved the visual of Peter swinging through trees and dodging bullets, though he winced every time Peter recounted a near miss.

“Where is Barnes?” Coulson asked.

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. He left with Masters and Wolverine to escort the mutants back to the Xavi--uh, Jean Grey School.”

“Barnes is in the city,” Captain Rogers said. “We spoke briefly. He’s safe and not a danger to anyone or himself.” Then Rogers paused a moment, getting that look on his face that means he’s about to ask a question that he already knows the answer to. He looked at this world’s Tony Stark, and asked, “Why wasn’t Barnes’ intel taken seriously?”

The look of guilt that went over Tony’s face was all the answer the Captain needed.

“This team is broken,” Captain Rogers said, shaking his head. “And we need to fix ourselves quick, because we all know that big threats happen all the time. Bucky might not be an Avenger, but he’s absolutely on our side.”

“So is Wade,” General America said. “We know from experience that Wade is an asset, and an asset that we would gladly take in as one of our own.”

“With all due respect to our doubles,” Stark said with a glare at the General, then returning his attention to Cap. “Wade is a mercenary. They might want to be buddies with him, but they don’t know him like we do.”

722-Stark cleared his throat, and said, “Look, Me, we’ve gotten to know Wade very well. And we’ve had Wanda on our team for over a decade. The two are remarkably similar, in that they are courageous, self-sacrificing, and loyal to the end. If anything, I think we know him better.”

A bitter laugh escaped from Cap, and he gestured across the table and said, “These people went to another universe to rescue one man that most people in this world would let rot.”  Rogers stood, throwing down his paperwork and pen as he said, “We’re not heroes. We’re not even human.”

Tony stood, and said, “Steve, we--”

“Excuses don’t matter, Stark,” Cap said. “I’m tired of the bickering, the in-fighting. And I’m sick to death of the bullshit. Either we’re all equal, or we’re equally fucked when something major happens.” His voice raised to a point it made others flinch when he snapped, “And what happened to me? To Thor? To all those kids? That was pretty goddamn major. Knowing what I know about Wade, knowing he’s been through all that shit a hundred times over, makes me respect the man. I’d take one Wade Wilson over a selfish egotistical prick any day.”

Tony couldn’t even make eye contact.

Steve looked at Coulson and said, “This meeting is over.” Then he shoved his chair at the table and left the meeting room at a quick pace.

Wade was hiding behind his hand, because now Tony Stark was looking at him.

“I guess...uh…” Tony laughed nervously. “I guess we’re expanding, Wilson.”

Wade dropped his hand away, fixing Tony with a death look. “Shove it up your ass, Tony.” He stood, knocking his chair over. “I’m through being where I’m not wanted.”

“I’m offering you--” Tony started.

“No,” Wade growled. “No. I’m not interested. I don’t wanna be part of your hero club. I’m not a fucking hero. And Cap’s right, neither are you.” And Wade left the room, followed by Wanda, Evan, and the Bartons.

Peter stood then, looking at Tony. He said, “You know, Mr. Stark. I used to really respect you. I wanted to be you. But the fact is, I’ll take my friends in low places.” He looked at General America and the other Tony, and said, “Thanks for bringing Deadp-- Wade back.”

Out in the Common Room, Wade was sitting against a wall with Wanda and Evan on either side of him with 722’s Clint and Natasha hovering nearby. Peter approached, his heart hammering as he said, “Wade?”

Wade looked up, a tense smile on his face. He didn’t say anything, though. He was struggling to keep his composure because everything felt so chaotic. The world was flying apart, and the one person who was so good at holding him together looked at him like he was a stranger.

Peter looked at the others around them, and asked Wade, “Can we talk for a minute?”

Wade nodded, and Evan and Wanda got up and followed Clint to the other side of the Common Room. Natasha Barton smiled at Peter, and mouthed, “ _Hurt him and I will cut you_ ,” before joining the others by the window panorama. Peter swallowed hard, and sat on the floor beside Wade.

 

For a while, both were silent, staring down at the polished marble tiles. Though Peter didn’t remember recent history, he knew that Deadpool had tried for years to be part of the Avengers. He was always trying to prove himself. The fact that he turned down the offer and didn’t latch onto it like an excited puppy showed Peter just how much he was missing, and not just in his personal life.

“Where do we go from here, Peter,” Wade said softly, still studying the grout lines.

“Home?” Peter said with a shrug. Wade looked up at him, his brow creased. Peter continued, “We live together, right? I’ve been to the apartment. I figure, I don’t know… Maybe if we go back to life as usual, it might bring my memory back, you know? Maybe it’s like muscle memory, if you go through the motions enough, you--”

“Peter, no,” Wade said sternly.

Now Peter was confused. Wasn’t this the guy that begged to crash at his place when Hit Monkey was after him? Then Peter remembered that, no. Wade wasn’t the same as he had been back then. Not even close. Clearly, neither was Peter.

“The things that I went through in the other world…” Wade shook his head, and said, “I was in someone else’s fantasy. I went through the motions because I was weak and confused. I almost believed that it was where I belonged. And as much as I’d love to go home with you, I don’t want you to feel obligated to play a role with me, understand?”

Peter nodded, and both were silent for a moment. Then Peter looked at Wade, and said, “Tomorrow’s Sunday. How do you feel about doing breakfast? May says it’s a tradition.”

Wade smiled. “Yeah. We can do that.”

Peter laughed softly, and said, “Guess we have a date?”

“Something like that,” Wade answered, the smile actually reaching his eyes.

Peter felt himself being pulled in by those honey-gold eyes. Almost like some automatic response, Peter leaned towards Wade, hand coming up to cup the merc’s scarred cheek. Wade’s breath caught at the touch, his heart pounding. Peter’s eyes flicked down to Wade’s lips, feeling an overwhelming desire to feel their rough texture against his. It felt like one of his dreams coming to life. It felt like he was falling into the uncanny valley…

Then Wade closed the distance, not kissing Peter’s lips. Rather pressing a soft kiss against Peter’s forehead, lingering a moment. The tenderness of it made tears come to Peter’s eyes. He never remembered being this emotional in all his life, and the fact that Wade Wilson was at the center of it was confusing, yet felt so right. The idea of letting Wade go felt like a death sentence, but there was still that part of Peter that didn’t trust what was happening. Even if Wade matched all the missing pieces, the pieces were jumbled. He needed to get them in order again. More than anything, Peter needed sleep.

Peter straightened, and wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, and said, “So, breakfast, right?”

Wade cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

About that time, the rest of the Avengers--both groups--came to the Common Room. May was with them, carrying a SHIELD folder that held the paperwork both Peter and Wade needed to fill out. She smiled, seeing the two of them sitting together.

“Breakfast tomorrow,” Wade said as he stood.

May nodded and hugged Wade around the neck, and whispering, “It’s all going to work out, you know.”

“I know,” Wade said as he released her.

Wanda bounced over and hugged May too. Then Wade, Wanda, Evan, and the 722-Avengers were in the elevator going down, and Wade was struggling to keep from falling apart. And he didn’t want to fall apart, not right now. Maybe once he was home and locked away by himself. Still, leaving Peter’s side felt like chewing off an arm.

**  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm not an owner in Kleenex stock. I swear it.


	33. A Good Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter experiences clarity.

Peter stared at the closed elevator doors a long time after Wade had disappeared behind them, feeling like something was being ripped out of his chest as the exhaustion set in again. He looked over his shoulder in the direction of his Spider Room, and frowned at the thought of spending another minute inside Avengers Tower.

May put an arm around his waist and said, “Are you ready to go home?”

He nodded, thinking about the apartment and Wade. That was the home he wanted to be deep down, even if it still felt like something he dreamed. He thought about Wade, how sad he looked when he left. And that kiss… Peter remembered a lot of kisses, but he never recalled one feeling quite so intimate that was also so chaste.

Chastity and Wade Wilson didn’t seem to match. Wade was no blushing virgin. He was a merc with a history of violence. Except… Maybe… Was Wade a virgin? Somehow, that thought struck a chord with Peter, making his face scrunch. Wade and virginity seemed mutually exclusive, but then again...

Suddenly Peter’s eyes went wide as a memory unfolded in his mind. A memory that had been only a vague idea of scarred skin and silk and leather, now came fully formed. Wade standing between Peter’s knees dressed in a corset and thigh highs with ribbons and high heels. Wade sobbing in pleasure as they made love for the first time since Wade’s body changed. Peter promising him that they would make it through this ordeal with Stryfe…

Peter’s whole body was shaking. He was sweating, and his mind was racing. It felt like a gate had opened, like a train was trying to push through his mind, because there was so much. So many memories. So many hellos and goodbyes. So many nights. So many dinners and breakfasts and text messages. So many hours sobbing by a lifeless body that was taking too long to come back. There were fights and make up sex and silly notes and quiet moments.

And love. There was so much love. And now there was an ache, and Peter was frantic.

“Fuck!” Peter gripped his head as more and more images and moments rushed his consciousness. His heart was hammering and he felt dizzy, like he was going to collapse. Then he did collapse, his head bouncing off the floor as he dropped.

When he again opened his eyes, May was beside him and Bruce was standing over him. He was shining a light in Peter’s eyes, and said, “Can you hear me, Peter?”

Peter’s head was throbbing, and he batted the light away. “Yeah, I hear you fine.” He tried to sit up, but the dizziness hit him again as he groaned, “I have to get to Wade. I need to see him right now. Somebody…”

“I’ve been trying to call him, but his phone goes straight to voicemail,” May said. “If you want, I’ll go to the apartment right now and get him.”

“No,” Peter said, again pushing himself up. He winced, and said, “It needs to be me. I need to find him.”

“You just had a hell of a crack on the head, Peter,” Banner said, gesturing to the bloody rag beside the examination table for emphasis. “You were unconscious for almost 10 minutes. You really shouldn’t be going anywhere right now.”

“He needs me!” Peter said, grabbing Banner’s arm. “He’s been through so much hell, he needs me.” He wanted to leap out of the window and web his way to the apartment, but his web-shooters were empty and the only refills were at the place he needed to be. He absolutely needed to be where Wade was, or he might burst.

“We’ll get you there, okay?” May said. Only then did Peter realize all his thoughts were coming out of his mouth. May looked at Thor, and the two seemed to communicate something, because Thor immediately rushed away.

The Asgardian returned a moment later with Mjolnir in hand, and said to Peter, “Come, I’ll take you to your home.”

Peter looked at Banner, almost daring him to say “no”. Banner raised his hands in surrender, and said, “Fine. Go, but you better check in with me.”

May hugged Peter and said with a grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast.”

Peter hugged May so tight she squeaked, then rushed to the window where Thor was waiting. Then both were airborne, the world rushing by in a blur of wind and light. Peter remembered the terror he felt the first time he took the Mjolnir express, but this time Peter was practically in ecstasy because he was going to be home.

Home. That thought made Peter want to tell Thor to fly faster. It felt like forever since he was home. And god, the thought of Wade being there alone. The thought of Wade thinking--no. The thought of Wade _knowing_ Peter forgot him was unbearable.

But he didn’t forget. Not really. At least, not all of him forgot. All the anxiety, the absolute need to find Wade. To rescue Wade. The part that burst into tears every time he couldn’t remember what was missing. Or when he thought such horrible things about Deadpool… He hated himself for that. He hated that the moment he saw Wade he didn’t immediately hold him. Wade was hurt. Badly. The injuries were in places that bandaids and healing factors couldn’t fix. Wade needed him right now, and Peter had let him leave.

And Wade’s reason. _The things I went through in the other world. I was in someone else’s fantasy. I went through the motions. Weak and confused._

Peter needed to make this right, and he needed to do it right now.

By the time Thor touched down, Peter was practically sobbing. Not because he was hurt or his head was throbbing, but because Wade was hurt. Wade needed him. Wade needed him, and Peter was not with him. Peter boiled Wade down to a missing piece, but it wasn’t a piece. It was his entire world.

“Calm,” Thor said, snapping Peter out of the cycle of panic. He might be the god of Thunder, but the Asgardian could calm all storms, not just those related to weather. He patted Peter’s shoulder, and said, “Go, my friend.”

Peter nodded and said, “Thanks. Thank you.”

The Asgardian took off into the sky, and Peter crawled down the side of the building to the window with the external latch and let himself inside. The scent of home filled Peter’s senses and he practically fell down and kissed the floor. The bedroom was empty, everything just as it had been when he and Bucky had been there. Clothes in the basket, bed neatly made.

Except he could hear the TV in the living room. He could smell popcorn. Wade was here.

Peter threw open the bedroom door, an excited shout of, "Wade!" coming out of his mouth before his Spidey Senses sent him leaping onto the ceiling just in time to avoid a giant fist of Evan's Apocalypse form. Peter scurried, but Evan caught him by the throat.

"It's me!" Peter gasped. "Stop!"

Evan's rage-filled red eyes suddenly softened. He dropped Peter as he shrank and said, "Peter? Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I... I thought you were S-- uh... someone else."

Peter took a few deep breaths, and said, "It's okay. I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"Other than almost ripping your head off? Peachy." Evan brushed back his shaggy black hair with a shaking hand. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before saying, "Do you always come in through the bedroom?"

"Sometimes." Peter laughed nervously. "I'm sorry for surprising you."

"Wade isn't here," Evan said, his voice back to normal.

Peter's heart hammered. "Please, god tell me he didn't leave this universe."

Evan's brow scrunched. "No. He went to the grocery store."

Peter was about to get emotional whiplash. He clutched his chest, and asked, "How long? When did he leave?"

"Like fifteen minutes ago," Evan answered. He smiled and said, "Go. I'm fine. Just... Just jumpy."

Peter hesitated. "Are you sure? Wade would kill me if--"

"Wade needs you more than I do, and Wanda will be here in like 5 minutes," Evan said, pushing Peter towards the door. "Go. And remind him to get blueberry pop tarts."

"No problem," Peter said as he backed out the door and said, "Thanks!" as he sprinted down the hall. He went straight to the stairs, jumping down through the center well, bouncing from rail to rail, and landing at a dead run out the front of the building.

The only possible place Wade would be is the 24-hour corner store. It was where Wade always did his post midnight shopping, when he'd get hungry for meatballs or wontons and the fridge was empty. Peter ran as fast as he could, weaving between cars and drunks, and nearly face-planted into the automatic door. The clerk gave him a dirty look, and Peter gave a quick wave and walk-ran towards the aisles, rushing through in search of a red hoodie or scarred skin. He wanted to shout for him, but the clerk looked like he wanted to call the cops anyway.

Peter had no doubt that he looked like a mad man. There was blood on the back of his shirt, his hair was sticking up in all directions. His arms and face were bruised, not to mention he was wild eyed and running like a maniac. But Peter didn't care. The only thing that mattered was getting to Wade.

Then Peter saw him, and he froze. He knew it was him by the hoodie and low pulled cap. Peter ran to him and grabbed his shoulder with a loud triumphant, "Wade!"

"The fuck?" the man in the hoodie said, shrugging off Peter's hand.

Peter's eyes went wide and he took a step back, laughing nervously. "You're... not Wade."

"No," the stranger said flatly.

That was when a raspy voice said, "Peter?"

Peter turned and did not hesitate. He rushed to Wade and kissed him, and kept kissing him until they both were gasping for air, and holding each other like the world would stop if they ever let go. They were both shaking and crying, and there were broken eggs on the floor and three other store patrons watching them.

"I love you," Peter sobbed against Wade's neck. "I love you, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I love you too, baby boy," Wade whispered into Peter's hair. "You've got nothing to be sorry about. Nothing." Wade kissed him again, a little less frantic, a little more sweet, and asked, "What happened? How did you remember?"

"It was..." Peter paused, gripping Wade's shirt. He finished in a faint whisper, "It was the new parts."

Wade let out a bark of laughter, and said loud enough that everyone could hear, "My mangina is fucking _magic_."

Peter clung to Wade, laughing and enjoying the feel and sound of Wade's laughter. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he needed to say. But there was a crowd, and all that could wait until they were alone.

Wade kissed him again, and said, "Let's go home. I think we've given everyone their money's worth."

Peter nodded and helped Wade clean up the egg mess, grabbed another carton, and went to check out. They did not break contact, not for one second. Not even when Peter made a quick dash to grab Evan's pop tarts, Wade ran with him.

***

Back at the apartment, Peter checked in with Banner and Aunt May while Wade toasted pop tarts and made a second batch of popcorn. Everyone piled into the living room to catch up on the news and to watch the latest episode of Space Dandy. Evan was the first to pass out. Then Bob and Wanda headed to the guest room.

Finally, Wade and Peter closed themselves in the bedroom.

For a while they just stood in the dark, holding on to each other. Absorbing the scent and feel of bodies that had been apart too long. And so much had happened that the only thing either wanted was to be together. There was no impatience, no demand. Just relief.

Peter was the one to guide them to the bed. They sat on the end, exchanging soft kisses, gentle touches. Wade kissed the bruises on Peter's cheek, carding his fingers through his hair until Peter winced when he touched the knot on the back of his head.

Wade pulled his hand back and gasped, "Sorry!"

"It's okay," Peter said as he took Wade's hand and kissed his fingertips, nuzzling against the merc's rough knuckles. Wade pulled him into another soft kiss, his hands sliding under the hem of Peter's shirt. Peter immediately removed his shirt and tossed it in the direction of the basket and reached for Wade's.

Wade tensed, and said, "Wait."

The hand Peter held was suddenly shaking. Peter put a hand against Wade's chest, feeling the way his heart raced. He put Wade's hand against his heart, and said, "Tell me."

Wade didn't want to tell Peter that the last time he was naked with someone, it was Stryfe. He didn't want Peter to know that he was in the middle of a flashback of being stripped and manhandled and forced to touch and be touched. Worse, he was thinking about the last time when Wade had his memories and willingly participated.

"Wade?"

"I just need a minute," Wade said with a voice that quavered. Tremors swept through his body, and the harder he tried to stop them, the worse they became.

Peter massaged Wade's chest, and said, "Don't shut me out. Please tell me."

Wade covered his face with both hands, turning away from Peter. He was quiet for a minute as Peter gently rubbed Wade's back and waited. Peter tried to prepare himself for what Wade would say. His mind conjured worst case scenarios, and when Wade started talking, Peter realized his imagination wasn't dark enough.

The details were not spared as Wade told Peter the horrors Stryfe subjected him to. Waking in the resurrection chamber, covered in filth and rot with his body flayed to bone. The memories of the Butcher that Stryfe put in his head. The bathing. The touching. Getting his memory back and being too weak to do fight or escape. Having to endure days with Stryfe, playing along consciously.

"I'm sorry," Wade said in a broken whisper. “I should have fought. I should have done anything but what I did and you have every right to hate me because I let it happen. I let all of it happen. I let him--”

Peter gently turned Wade’s face so he could look him in the eyes, and said, “It is not your fault. You didn’t ask for this to happen. You didn’t deserve it. I could never hate you, Wade. Never.”

Then Wade looked away again. “I don’t know why you love me, Peter. Your life would be so much easier without me.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Peter leaned against Wade, resting his chin on the merc’s shoulder. “I didn’t know what was missing when you were gone, but I knew something important was gone. Not having you felt like missing a limb. Life was not easier without you. It was hell.” Peter moved closer, pressing tight against Wade, saying, “And I don’t care how long it takes or what it takes, I’m going to make sure that every hurt and every nightmare is destroyed. Just tell me what you need from me, and I will give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Wade’s voice was barely audible as he said, “How about a good night’s sleep?”

“I think I can do that,” Peter said as he wiped the tears from Wade’s cheek. He stood and went to the drawer, withdrawing a couple pair of sleep pants and soft t-shirts. Peter turned away to allow Wade his privacy to change clothes. After they were both dressed for bed, Peter and Wade climbed between the sheets, moving into the familiar places that their bodies had created in the mattress.

Peter knew that there would be nightmares. There would be rough nights and difficult days. There would be anger and sadness. But they would face it together, and at least, Peter figured, it was a good start.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters. Two. More. Chapters.
> 
> Seriously, this was supposed to be a short one shot thing as an excuse to have laughs because Deadpool had a vagina. That "I was drunk when I got this idea" tag was for real. I had no plan. Then I took it serious. I gave it a plot. I gave people feelings. It turned into a frigging book. 
> 
> Still... Two more chapters. I've been working on this since November. 
> 
> And yes, sexytimes is coming. I just have this overwhelming desire to keep it real. In a comicbook universe.


	34. Sunday Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter have a laugh, and Wade has an epiphany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's sex here. Just so you know. If you don't wanna read goofy smut, skip to about the middle, and you'll be fine. :)

When Peter woke in the faint light of early morning, and rolled over to find Wade sleeping exactly where he was supposed to be. Everything felt right for the first time in what felt like forever. Peter sighed, wiggling a little closer, his hand smoothing over the soft material of Wade’s t-shirt. All those mornings waking and reaching to find nothing, feeling so lonely and having no idea why, made Peter want moments like this to last forever.

There were so many times that Wade would look at Peter like he was trying to memorize every detail, and Peter realized the reason. Wade knew what it was like to forget. He knew what it was like to wake up with no memory of who you are or where you’re from, or who cares about you. Now all Peter wanted to do was to study the merc in every detail, until the man was burned into his brain in such a way that nothing and noone could ever make him forget again.

Then Wade stirred, snuggling his face into the side of Peter’s pillow as he mumbled, “Like what you see?”

“Very much,” Peter answered as he kissed the side of Wade’s neck, just above the collar of his t-shirt. Wade hummed, moving closer, forsaking Peter’s pillow for the hollow of Peter’s throat. He nuzzled against the soft skin, peppering kisses against Peter’s jaw, enjoying the clingy scratch of morning stubble. Peter’s eyes drifted shut, but sprang open when Wade suddenly sat up.

For a split second, he thought Wade was going to slam the breaks. Peter stayed still, watching and waiting for Wade to lead the way. Wade hesitated as he reached for the hem of his shirt, then took a deep breath and pulled it off, tossing it at the window. Then he stood at the side of the bed and started to remove his sleep pants, but paused and gave Peter a cocky grin and said, “You just gonna watch the show or you gonna participate, pretty boy.”

Peter ripped his shirt in his enthusiasm to remove it. Wade snickered, and they both ended up in the middle of the bed laughing until the laughter turned to more kissing and more clothes vanishing until they were skin to skin. Peter couldn’t stop touching Wade, not even if the world ended. Nothing felt better than Wade’s scarred skin under Peter’s hands, so perfectly imperfect. So real.

Wade couldn’t stop kissing Peter. He’d always been enthusiastic about foreplay, but this time he was just as content to lay together and make out like teenagers making their first fumblings in the dark. He reveled in the breathy chuckles when he skimmed his teeth over the sensitive skin of Peter’s neck or nipped at that really ticklish spot on his ribs.

It was an exploration, one agreed upon without words. They needed to touch all the familiar places, feel the sensations. Remind each other that they are both real. Remind each other of all the ways they fit. Wade’s lips and tongue explored Peter’s body, hands tracing the curve of defined muscle and line of bone from chin to toes. He nuzzled, he tickled, he nipped, making them both laugh and gasp.

When it was Peter’s turn to do the same, Wade absorbed himself in it, never closing his eyes. He wanted to make sure that the only face in his mind was Peter’s, that the only one touching him was the perfect man in bed with him. Peter took his time, careful to let Wade adjust to every touch, letting him know that it was okay to stop. Wade didn’t want him to stop, not even when the little shit started tickling Wade’s left foot, which was the most ticklish place on Wade’s entire body.

It seemed so important to laugh together that morning. Life was too serious for too long, and the simple act of laughing was cathartic.

Then Wade straddled Peter, and whispered, “How about we show my mangina a little love?”

Peter couldn’t hold back the laughter, even as he bucked up against Wade and felt the slick wetness against his leg. Once he could speak without laughing, he said, “I’d say we owe your mangina a lot of love, considering it is magic.”

“Yes indeed, good sir,” Wade said, reaching for the box of condoms beside the bed. He picked up one in a yellow package, and squinted at the foil before tearing it open and said, “Supposedly ribbed for _her_ pleasure. So sexist.”

Peter shook his head. “I’ll write a strongly worded letter to the company.”

Wade gripped Peter’s cock giving a few strokes before sliding the condom on as he said, “I’m just disappointed that it isn’t banana flavored. That should be a rule.”

“I’ll, uh…I’ll put that in-in the l-letter,” Peter stammered while Wade stroked him. He reached for Wade’s cock, and they stroked each other until they were both gasping. Then Wade rose up and guided Peter inside, and they both shuddered at the tight fit.

Wade moved at his own pace, shifting his hips until he found the perfect angle to stroke his clit against Peter’s cock, and he dissolved into soft moans that were muffled against Peter’s neck. Peter gripped Wade’s hips, meeting Wade’s movements and revelling in the blissed-out look in Wade’s eyes. There was intensity and wonder, and Peter could feel warmth inside that had nothing to do with the friction between their bodies.

Their movements turned erratic, and soon they were both coming with soft cries muffled by mouths still greedy for more lazy kisses. They didn’t stop until the stickiness was enough to get them both out of bed. Wade wrapped up in a sheet and poked his head out the door see if the coast was clear.

Evan was still passed out, sleeping with his mouth open and leg flung up on the back of the couch. It didn’t look comfortable, but he was softly snoring.

Wade motioned for Peter, and the two of them showered together. There was a moment--a brief moment--when Wade felt the tingle of panic start, but he pushed it down. Though, he did make a mental note to have the bathtub removed from the apartment.

Once the shower was finished, and both were dressed, they headed to the kitchen to start making breakfast. It was getting towards 8 o’clock, and Wade had purchased stuff to make blueberry muffins and quiche lorraine, as well as omelets with a variety of fillings, hash browns, orange glazed cinnamon rolls, and a couple types of cereal just to cover all the food groups.

Peter didn’t know the first thing about cooking. At least, not the way Wade cooked. Thus, Peter took the role of vegetable chopper and bowl stirrer. Wade was rolling out the crust for the quiche when Evan staggered into the kitchen. He had pillow marks on his cheek and his red eyes were at half mast.

“Morning, sunshine,” Wade said.

Evan mumbled something that sounded like, “Good morning,” and sat in one of the chairs and put his head on his folded arms. He snoozed through the quiche going into the oven, but found renewed energy when Wade started frying bacon. Peter busied himself making coffee, because it was the thing he was genuinely good at in the kitchen, and offered Evan a cup, which the teen accepted and proceeded to dump sugar and cream in the cup until it could no longer be called coffee.

Evan sat back, sipping his coffee and licking  the blueberry-batter coated spoon. After a minute, he asked, “What were you two laughing about earlier? It woke me up for a minute.”

Wade fish-mouthed a couple times, and Peter said, “Wade has ticklish feet.”

Evan laughed at that. “Seriously?”

Wade nodded. “Yes. It’s a fact. Tell anyone, and I’ll cut you.”

“Why are you threatening my god-nephew?” Wanda asked as she entered the kitchen. She was wearing another one of Bob’s t-shirts. This time it was one with Agency X written across the chest. She sat on the table and swiped her finger along the rim of the batter bowl, earning a dirty look from Evan. She poked him in the nose, leaving a smear of batter.

“Because he knows about my kryptonite,” Wade answered. “That kind of information can be dangerous. Especially when he’s living here and he and Peter become friends.”

Evan turned serious. “You still want to let me stay here?”

“Of course,” Peter answered like it was an obvious fact. He swiped a piece of bacon, and took a thoughtful bite. “We might need to rearrange some stuff. Definitely get a more comfortable pull out, cuz that couch has been dying since before I owned it. We can probably clean out that closet in the office, and… What?”

Wade was grinning at him. There was a lot of things that Wade wanted to say, but the only thing he could manage was, “This is why I love you, Peter.”

Wanda cleared her throat before Peter and Wade could dissolve into PDA, and said, “Actually, I’m probably moving out, so Evan can have the guest bedroom office.”

Wade’s eyes turned sad. “You’re going back home?”

She grinned. “No. I’m moving in with Bob. We talked. We schmoozed. We....”

“ _Had creepy, noisy sex,_ ” Evan mumbled.

“We came to a decision,” Wanda continued, giving Evan a soft kick to the knee. “Actually, I decided a lot of things last night. Mainly, I want to stay in this world for a while, but also I think I’ve finally moved past some stuff. Guess you could say that recent events have taught me the importance of moving on.”

“Understatement,” Evan said. He took a deep breath, and asked, “Do I have to go back to school?”

“That decision is up to you, kid,” Wade answered, smiling. “You’ve proven you’re a reasonable and responsible person. I know you’ll make the right choice for what’s right for you, and we’ll support you no matter what.”

Evan sighed, and said, “Maybe I can talk to Ms. Pryde, see if I can take my finals ahead of schedule, then have a few months off.”

“See,” Wade said with a nod. “Reasonable and responsible.”

May arrived shortly after all the baked goods came out of the oven, and Peter rushed to meet her at the door. She hugged him fiercely, and then went to the kitchen, saying, “My god, this place always smells so good!”

Wade scooped her up off the floor, still holding his spatula. When he put her down, he had tears in his eyes, and he grumbled as he laughed, “Dammit, I was doing so good this morning.”

“It’s because of the happiness!” Wanda said as she snatched up May.

Once May was again on terra firma, she looked at Evan. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced, young man. I’m May Parker.”

Evan smiled shyly, and said, “I’m Evan Sabahnur.”

May shook his hand, beaming a smile as she said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Chairs were gathered from around the house, as well as stray TV trays to accommodate everyone without having to banish someone to sit on the couch. The food was served buffet style, except for the omelets which Wade made to order.

The conversation flowed easily, though it was different actually discussing being masked vigilantes with May. Sometimes Wade would slip up and say his “detective work” instead of SHIELD missions. They didn’t talk about what happened over the last few weeks. They stuck to topics concerning the future, like Evan’s decision to come and live with Wade and Peter, and Wanda’s new found relationship with Bob.

But the subject that caused Wade to forget food existed was May’s new man, Armando. He dropped his fork and got up to give May a high-five, before demanding details about her gorgeous silver-fox. She blushed, but told them that he was a retired FBI agent who teaches painting classes at the local rec center.

“When do we get to meet him?” Wade asked.

May chuckled, and said, “Well, Peter’s already met him.”

Peter groaned. “That was...horrifying.”

Wade’s eyebrow shot up. “Did he catch you doing the hibbidy dibbidy?”

“No!” Peter practically shouted, his face turning scarlet.

“Almost,” May said, then took a sip of coffee.

She and Wade had another high-five, then she said, “We should do breakfast at my house next week. I’ll cook, you’ll bring these cinnamon rolls.” Then she put her arm around Peter, and said, “Also, I need to put that giant dining table to good use. This family is growing all the time.”

Wade nodded and said, “Yeah. Yeah, we got a pretty big family now, don’t we.” The way he said it was like a man having an epiphany, like he never knew such a thing was possible. He looked around the table, and realized that he had a sister, a semi-sorta kid, an aunt/mom, a Bob, and he had Peter.

Wade Winston Wilson had a family. A few years ago, he would have never dreamed of such a thing. A few weeks ago, he would never have hoped for such a thing. And five minutes ago, he hadn’t realized it was right under his nose. He decided that no matter the Hell that happened to get to this point, it was worth it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. Look at that. An ENTIRE CHAPTER with nothing but good happy feelings. I knew I could do it, because I believe in happy endings. I'm a frigging optimist! I swear it. :)


	35. Three Months Later...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life has found a new normal, and Peter hopes to keep it that way.

Peter and Evan sat on the couch staring at the blank TV screen. Evan was slouched back with his socked feet on the edge of the coffee table--a habit he picked up from Wade, much to Peter’s annoyance. Peter was sitting forward with his chin resting on his knuckles, one knee bouncing like it was made of rubber. His eyes, as much as they wanted to stay fixed on the distorted reflection of the windows behind him, he couldn’t help darting toward the bathroom and back down at the box sitting just to the right of Evan’s foot.

Life, for the most part, had been fairly easy to manage in the weeks and months following their ordeal with Stryfe. Peter resumed work on his thesis, which was nearing completion. He’d also given The Daily Bugle a final fuck-you, and chose to take a job doing freelance work for Jan Parsec’s blog and newsletter. It was less stress, and gave him a wide open schedule for other things, like joining Wade and Wanda for weekly knitting and the new Avenger’s Team Building Activity Day.

The Team Building was actually Tony’s brainchild, which he conjured in an effort to bridge the wide, gaping chasm between he and Steve. Tony being Tony, he transformed entire floors of Avenger’s Tower to be used strictly for team recreation. And Steve being Steve, responded, “We should go hiking.” After a few weeks, the two reached an agreement that they would alternate between the fun indoor things (like swimming and exercising in the new state of the art gym), and Steve’s fun outdoor things (like swimming in outdoor water and hiking mountain trails).

The part that blew Peter’s mind was the day Tony and Bucky showed up at the apartment together and seemingly by choice and not under the influence of mind control or implanted bomb. Tony extended the invitation, with Bucky adding that he’s on board if it will help Steve. After some discussion, Wade and Peter both agreed to join in.

That first hiking/camping trip is why Peter was currently having a small anxiety attack. It was at the beginning of December, a time of the year that camping did not sound fun at all especially with temperatures expected to be close to freezing and snow in the forecast. But Steve insisted that it would be a good team building exercise.

Really, he was right. They had to work together to clear a campsite and gather wood for a fire, which Clint took to with glee. Apparently his entire life, he’d wanted a reason to use the bow-method of fire starting. There were blisters and cussing, but when he managed to light his little bird’s nest of kindling, he let out a cheer that echoed across the frozen mountain.

Then there was Thor, who was put in charge of food. The thunder god decided rather than bring a cooler, he would hunt their supper. Everyone thought he was joking until he walked into camp with a deer over his shoulder. Steve, Bucky, Wade, and Natasha were impressed. Tony and Bruce both decided they were fine with just protein bars.

Peter wasn’t sure if it was the wild dinner, or the hours spent around the campfire sharing a jar of moonshine that Tony had made in his lab, or just the fact that he and Wade snuggled inside a shared sleeping bag, but they couldn’t keep their hands off each other that night--despite only a thin nylon wall separating them from the rest of the team. At least Thor’s snoring was good cover noise. It was damned good sex, Peter had to admit, even if a little sloppy because they were both pretty drunk.

Then a couple hours ago, Peter was getting ready to go to the store, and noticed the calendar on the wall marking the date of Wade’s predicted period had passed. Immediately Peter recalled the night in the tent with the very memorable lack of protection, and he found Wade sitting in their bedroom watching Bambi with a box of tissues in his lap.

“You’ve missed your period,” was Peter’s opener.

Wade looked up at him, his head tilted in that way it always did when he was confused. “What?”

“The calendar says you’re four days late,” Peter clarified. “Is that normal? I thought you and Wanda had it all figured out.”

Wade and Wanda spent an hour or so working out his ovulation cycle after his second period took Wade by surprise. It actually turned into a very rough few days due to it being a reminder of what happened the first time. Thus, Wanda made sure that there would be no more surprise bleeding, as well as making sure Wade was well supplied for the event.

Peter had to hide his amusement at the variety of tampons, pads, and other feminine hygiene products that had taken over the lower half of the linen closet. Some were too itchy, too big, too weird. Wade decided right out of the gate that pads made his balls itch, and thus he avoided them. More than once he’d yowled in pain after jabbing a testicle with a tampon applicator. And the “cup” was absolutely not happening. After extensive testing, Wade found a particular brand he liked, and he went through them at a rate probably only beaten by a teenage girl.

Wade shrugged. “I don’t know. I have very little experience being a woman.”

“Aren’t you a little curious?” Peter said.

“I’ve been busy,” Wade answered.

And it was true. Wade had been exceptionally busy. There were frequent trips to the Jean Grey School to provide blood and organs for the slowly dying group of Butler’s mutant experiments. What was originally over two dozen had dwindled down to seven. The seven, according to Hank, were the most tenacious of the group, and as it turned out, were the later products of the project. Kim, the nightcrawler, had become a good friend over the weeks, and hoped to visit New York City soon.

Evan also kept Wade busy. The first week back from Hell (as Wade, Wanda, and Evan called it), the whole family went to the Jean Grey School so Evan could take his finals. Originally, Evan went by himself, but Wade and Peter came back after Evan had his first of many terrible nightmares, and the only thing that really helped him relax was seeing Wade alive and whole. Ms. Pryde had been on the fence about allowing Evan to leave, but changed her mind after that event.

The day Evan came to live with Wade and Peter was the day Wanda moved over to Bob’s officially. And since Evan was going to be a mostly permanent resident of the Parker-Wilson house, they swapped out the air mattress for a regular bed. After tacking up a few posters and getting the passwords for the internet, Evan was settled and comfortable. He still had nightmares, but so did Wade. And the two of them went every Thursday to speak to a councilor at SHIELD.

Due to his appearance, Evan stuck out when walking around New York City. But then again, so did Wade, which is why Wade stopped wearing his hoodie and hat everywhere. It made Evan feel more comfortable, and typically drew any comments Wade’s direction. Peter spent most of his time trying to not punch random idiots on the street when the three of them went out somewhere, but now Evan was starting to be a familiar face in the neighborhood.

Then there was Aunt May, who took to Evan with the same tenacity and devotion as she did Wade. They went from having just Sunday breakfast to having dinner a couple times a week, too. Evan absolutely adored her, and always looked forward to visiting Aunt May and Armando.

Meeting Armando Dos Veces had been an experience too. Not in the same way it had been for Peter, though. Mainly because Peter never met Armando Muñoz, and had no idea who the mutant called Darwin was. While Peter, May, and Evan were doing dishes, Wade and Wanda were conducting a small inquisition on the back porch.

This Armando was from a different universe, where his mutant powers had been stripped. He, along with many others, chose exile over death. It was true, he was a retired FBI agent. He’d put in 25 years with the agency, and decided he wanted to do something peaceful for the remainder of his years, like painting lessons. He told this story with a bit of apprehension, because from the moment he laid eyes on Wade and Wanda, he knew who they were too.

“I’m not gonna out ya,” Wade said as Armando finished talking. “And as long as you treat Miss May right, we’ll never have problems. But she knows who and what we are. She deserves to know the truth about you, too.”

Armando agreed. Reluctantly, but he agreed. May, being the stalwart creature that she is, took the information with a smile and a shrug, and said, “It doesn’t change who you are inside.”

Peter had to agree, and the entire trip home all he could think about was how lucky he was to have the family he had. That he grew up knowing what it meant to accept people for who they are, not what they were. He was thankful that he could look at Wade and Wanda and see them both as humans and not as the monsters so many others believed them to be. He loved his family. All of it, especially the ones he collected over the years.

Which is why a couple weeks later, Peter left a note for Wade to meet him on the roof of the apartment building. It was a very cold evening, but Peter spent the better part of two hours carrying blankets, pillows, and candles up to the little garden area where in the Spring one of the top floor tenants planted tomatoes and a couple pot plants. That night, Peter topped the flowerbed with a plank of wood he found and placed several candles which he lit just before Wade hopped over the railing.

Wade froze seeing the little blanket nest and candles, and asked, “Are we having a seance?”

Peter laughed and motioned Wade to join him. The two snuggled down into the blankets, cocooning themselves in each other’s warmth. It took a while for Peter to manage to say what he planned all of this to say because he was enjoying the way Wade kissed him a little too much. Finally, breathless, Peter broke away and said, “Do you know what today is?”

“November 3rd?” Wade answered.

“This is the anniversary of the first time you kissed me,” Peter answered, smiling.

Wade’s brow scrunched. “I thought that was that weekend of the big Chitauri battle?”

“No.” Peter kissed Wade’s cheek. “No, this was back before you and I were ever anything other than two dudes with a similar costume. I might have even described you as arch nemesis material, I believe.”

The furrow of Wade’s brow deepened, then his eyes brightened, and he gasped, “Shit! Yeah, I remember that. We’d teamed up to take down one of Kingpin’s cronies.” Wade chuckled. “I kissed you and ran away.”

“With one of my webshooters,” Peter added with a tone of disapproval that turned into a laugh.

“So you knew back then I was your one true love?” Wade said, batting his eyes.

“Not exactly,” Peter answered. “I wrote it down because I wanted to remember who stole my webshooter in case you chose to use it.”

“I gave it back,” Wade pouted, then grinned. “Like a year later, but I gave it back.”

Peter smiled, but turned serious. “The thing is, at the time I didn’t know that date would be important. That I would think about that every time I saw you after. That every November 3rd, I would think about that time that Deadpool kissed me. I never thought then that I would be here with you like this. That I would love you like I do.”

“Me neither,” Wade said softly, snuggling a little closer. Then, in a very soft voice, Wade asked, “So, is this the part where you propose?”

“Yes,” Peter answered without hesitation, making Wade freeze. “I want to marry you.”

Wade’s answer was a kiss that was a better “yes” than any he could have vocalized. They sent out text messages to Aunt May, Evan, and Wanda, announcing the big news. They stayed on the roof talking for hours about the future. They both agreed that it would be great to get married in the Spring, probably on a rooftop because that’s where they really fell in love. They discussed getting a house. Maybe even getting a pet.

One thing they didn’t really talk about was the potential for children. Because there was that potential. Wade produced viable eggs, which was determined by Hank McCoy, the only doctor Wade really trusted. They knew without a doubt that Wade could get pregnant, and still moonshine happened, and now Peter was waiting for the test result.

“How long has it been?” Peter asked Evan.

Evan sighed. “Thirty seconds since the last time you asked.”

“Which is?”

“Two minutes,” Evan answered.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door heralding Wanda’s arrival. She came in using her key, and looked at Peter. “So we having a baby up in here?”

“Don’t know yet,” Peter answered. He picked up the box, reading the instructions for the tenth time.

Wanda flopped onto the couch between Evan and Peter, and asked, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad are you shitting yourself right now?”

“This is not a joke,” Peter said flatly.

“I warned you, Petey-pie,” Wanda said with a smirk.

The sound of the kitchen timer _ding_ brought Peter to his feet.

A moment later Wade came out of the bathroom staring at the little plastic stick in his hand, and said, "What does one line mean?"

"Not pregnant," Wanda answered as Peter looked at the box.

"Oh thank fucking Odin," Wade said as he slumped against the wall. Peter rushed over to him, kissing Wade firmly on the mouth. Wade gripped Peter’s hips, and said, “My mangina is off limits for a while. No more poking the baby hole.”

Peter laughed and put an arm around Wade's waist, and asked, "Are you relieved? I'm relieved."

Wade nodded. "Yeah. Understatement. I don't think I'm ready for motherhood."

"Protection, idiots," Wanda said as she slapped them both on the side of the head. Then she grinned as she bounced excitedly. "But ohmigod, you two would have adorable little Spideypool children with Bambi eyes and hair!"

Peter grinned and nodded. "When we're ready for it."

Wade let out a relieved sigh, tossing the test at the trash can, where it bounced off the edge and went skittering towards the entertainment center. Wade laughed, and Wanda said, "Beware of the flying pee stick."

"Please pick up your pee stick, Wade," Evan said, snickering.

"I like to consider my pee stick carry-on," Wade answered with a cheesy grin.

"Please stop saying 'pee stick'." Peter rolled his eyes and walked to the entertainment center. "I knew I never should have allowed you to watch _Orange is the New Black_."

"But hot girls! In showers!" Wanda said plaintively, Evan nodding in agreement.

“Exactly.” Peter snatched the test off the floor. He looked at it, feeling like he should frame it and matte it with condoms, also worried he would see a second line. He didn't. He sighed--both relieved, and maybe a little wistful--and tossed the test in the trash.

Still, there was a part of him that had to wonder what it would be like if someday the result was different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over. It's really over!! 
> 
> (ha ha)
> 
> Yeah right. I have so many ideas for this frikking universe it is unreal. 
> 
> Still, this has been a labor of love. This has been 5 months of writing. This has been an adventure.
> 
> Thanks everyone who read and commented and left kudos. You make me happy. So very happy, and I hope you'll come back for the next adventure, which is a His Dark Materials AU called "The Architect of the World" which I will start posting sometime next week.
> 
> Again, thanks for reading! I love you all. :D


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